The Asylum Games
by EcoSeeker247
Summary: All they wanted to do was find someone that could help them with their car. Or at least use a working phone in order to call Roadside Dispatch. But what starts out as a simple road trip gone wrong for two feuding siblings soon turns into a deadly fight for survival as they find themselves stranded near Mount Massive Asylum. *Rated M for violence, language, and sexual content*
1. Same Coin, Different Sides

All right! So, welcome to my very first _Outlast _fanfiction! I was recently introduced to this game, and after playing through both the main story and the _Whistleblower _DLC, I found myself really enjoying it despite the fact that it was downright scary at times! Red Barrels did a great job creating the atmosphere and the memorable characters, and I love it so much that I wanted to write a story for it! :D

This is my take on what would happen if some OCs ended up in Mount Massive Asylum. This first chapter is mostly just going to introduce them, and then the next chapter should start the events of the game. Events and characters from both the main game and _Whistleblower _will be included in this story, so hopefully, I'll be able to do the characters justice. I hope you all like this story, and let me know what you think! :D_  
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**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

**WARNING: **There will be spoilers from both the main game and _Whistleblower _throughout this story.

* * *

**Chapter One: Same Coin, Different Sides**

_**September 17**__**th**__**, 2013-Lake County, Colorado…**_

_All she could think about was whether or not she was going to die. _

_ The silence didn't help, either, her ragged breathing being the only sound that echoed through the pitch black hallway. Her hands shook and began to feel clammy as she patted the walls to her left-her only sense of security in the darkness as she continued to move forward. Not that she was afraid of the dark, but the fact that not even the red emergency lights were on right now made her feel even more on edge. She'd hate to think of what it would be like to bump into something that was in her way. _

_ Or rather, someone. _

_ But she couldn't think about that right now. All she could hope to do was continue to hug the wall, taking very quiet baby steps with her bare feet. She gulped, her heart hammering in her chest, and she prayed that nobody would be able to hear that. She was even more pressed for time than usual and couldn't afford to get herself caught right now. Not with the plan she had thought of at the last minute. _

_ She could do this, she told herself as she took another deep breath. She just had to remember where the exit was and then she'd be all right. _

_ Suddenly, she heard footsteps, making her freeze where she was as she hugged the wall even tighter now, doing her best to stop trembling. She didn't know how well the footsteps' owner could see in the pitch black, and she didn't want to stick around to find out. She knew she had to keep going, otherwise she would be spotted, but it was all a matter of knowing when the best time was. _

_ She held her breath as she heard the other person get closer to where she was standing, her heart nearly stopping as the steps suddenly ceased as well. She prayed that she'd be able to just sneak past without alerting the Variant, for that would definitely put a damper on her master plan. She just had to stay calm and hope for the best, no matter how difficult that might be. _

_ Fortunately, the Variant didn't seem to detect anything odd in the darkness, continuing to move along as his footsteps receded and his low mumbling became more distant. She allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief as she instantly began to move again, turning to the right as a thin sliver of moonlight greeted her from one of the large windows up ahead. _

_ That was the way, she realized. That was the way out of here. _

_ And with that, she took a deep breath, braced herself, and began to run… _

* * *

_**Three days earlier-Denver, Colorado-8:00 PM…**_

Emily Wilkins glanced up from the bar after sticking a piece of lime on the side of the drink she had just finished making. After quickly preparing another delicious looking alcoholic beverage, she picked one up with each hand, smiling as she did her best to make sure she didn't drop them. In all her years of working in this place, she'd only had two incidents, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Nothing was worse than having to make drinks all over again.

Emily skirted her way around a few of the other bartenders as she finally reached her destination, smiling again at the elderly couple who had come to the bar for a quick drink, like they always did every week for the last two years. "All right, here we go," she said, "A Long Island Iced Tea for you, Mr. Johnson." She set the glass down in front of him before turning to his wife.

"And for Mrs. Johnson, a White Peach Sangria," she continued, making the older woman laugh as she placed the second drink on the wooden surface of the bar.

"Wonderful!" she complimented, "See, Larry? I'm always telling them how good she is."

Emily felt a blush creep up on her face, like it always did whenever somebody paid her a compliment. "Thank you, Mrs. Johnson," she said, though she couldn't fight the small smile that was beginning to spread, "I'm just glad I've been continuing to get both your drink orders right."

"Well, when you see the same faces over and over again, that's bound to happen," Mr. Johnson piped up as he happily took a sip of his Long Island Iced Tea.

"Delicious," he reported, "As always."

Emily laughed. "Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Is there anything else I can get either of you?"

"No, we're all right for now," Mrs. Johnson assured her, "We'll see you again when your shift is over."

Emily nodded, smiling once more as she picked up some empty glasses from previous bar patrons and carried them back towards the kitchen. All around her, various bartenders, waiters, waitresses, and customers were making their way around the Cheesecake Factory, and it was a miracle that she was able to maneuver her way around the place without crashing into somebody by now. Nevertheless, she made it to the kitchen without incident, dropping off the empty glasses before returning to the bar in order to attend to other customers.

Every day, it was like this, she noticed as she returned to her assigned post and picked up the tip that was meant for her. This was how it had been for the entire four years she'd worked here: always busy, always dashing from one end of the bar to the other, and always being on her feet.

But Emily wouldn't have it any other way. She made good money working at the Cheesecake Factory, between her paycheck and the tips, and she would continue working there for as long as she needed to. And she loved her job, so that was a plus as well.

Once her shift was over a couple of hours later, Emily sighed and adjusted her braid, smoothing out a few wrinkles in her black shirt as she proceeded to clock out, placing her tips in an empty envelope that she always carried around with her. She was just getting ready to hoist her bag over her shoulder and head back to her car when she spotted Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sitting on a couch close to the exit. Suddenly, she felt a little guilty keeping them waiting like this, and she sighed as she took a seat next to them, blocking out the rest of the sounds coming from the restaurant.

"You guys didn't have to wait for me," she told them as she frowned, "Just in case you had plans or anything tonight."

"We do," Mrs. Johnson said in response, "But we don't mind. Really. Besides, Larry and I have something that we wanted to give you, anyway."

Emily raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but her heart sank a few seconds later as the older woman pulled out an envelope containing one hundred dollars. She knew exactly what the couple intended to do, and she felt another blush creep up her cheeks as she shook her head vehemently. She always told herself that she would never ask anybody for money, and the very rare times she had to were torture for her.

"No, thank you. I couldn't accept that again. You both have done so much for me already."

"Just _take _it, Emily," Mr. Johnson insisted, "You need it more than we do at this point. Anything to help you achieve your dreams."

"He's right," Mrs. Johnson agreed, "And we don't mind helping you. We know you're always very careful with your money and that you won't just casually throw it away." Emily still looked conflicted as she glanced from the elderly couple to the envelope, and after another minute or two of silent debating, she cautiously reached forward and took it, stuffing it in her bag as she sighed.

"Thank you," she whispered, "Thank you both for everything. If there's a way I can eventually repay you-"

"Don't worry about it," Mrs. Johnson assured her, "Think of this as a _gift_ for you. As Larry said, this is for you to put away for something special, like your goals that you've always told us about." Emily smiled sadly, feeling tears pool in her eyes as she processed what they were telling her.

"Now, what are your plans for when you leave the Cheesecake Factory?" Mrs. Johnson continued, "It's only 11:00, and you know Denver has a lot to do at this hour."

Emily chuckled, flexing her feet as she felt her heels begin to pinch a little bit. "I'm probably just going to go home and climb into bed," she answered, "These long hours always leave me a little tired. What about you two?"

"We're going to catch a late night movie," Mr. Johnson reported as he wrapped his arms around his wife, "And then we'll probably go dancing after that."

Emily grinned, pushing a lock of black hair out of her face. "You two never mentioned that you still went out like that."

Mrs. Johnson laughed. "What?" she teased, "You think that just because we're almost seventy that we can't still be young at heart? There are _plenty _of venues for people our age to go to. We may not be as young as you anymore, but there's nothing wrong with still trying to live life to the fullest."

"But it _is _best to enjoy your youth while you can," Mr. Johnson added, "You're only young once, you know."

Emily smiled again, though it was a lot more tightlipped than it had been a few minutes ago. "So I've been told," she mumbled, "I should probably get going now, or else my parents will be wondering where I am. Thank you again for the money. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Mrs. Johnson replied, "Drive home safely. And remember what we told you."

Emily nodded one last time, eventually turning and exiting the Cheesecake Factory as she swiftly made her way through the 16th Street Mall, hurrying to her car as she quickly unlocked the doors and climbed inside. She wasn't afraid of the dark, per se, but she always felt slightly unsettled whenever she had to walk anywhere by herself at this time of night.

As she took the short drive home, she thought about what Mr. and Mrs. Johnson had told her, about how they were trying to encourage her to do something spontaneous and go out that night. She sighed again as she thought about how true those words were, but how she simply couldn't apply them to herself at that moment. She already had so much going on in her life that doing something such as hanging out at a bar didn't sound all that appealing to her. Maybe to other people, it was, but she didn't see the point. Not really.

To distract herself, she turned on the radio, hoping to catch some good music on her favorite stations, but to her annoyance, all she heard was the news for almost the entire ride. "_And in other news tonight,_" the woman on the radio began right after the usual traffic and weather report, "_Murkoff Corporations reported on their website earlier today that they've raised enough money from charity to finally finish refurbishing Mount Massive Asylum's Vocational Block. As you all know, this was a project that they launched on KickStarter at the end of last year, and after they successfully reached their goal, we got the chance to interview the head of the asylum, Jeremy Blaire._"

Suddenly, a male voice poured through the speakers, and for some reason, Emily found herself turning up the volume out of curiosity. "_I'd just like to say thank you to everyone who donated to charity,_" he had apparently said to the interviewer, "_We couldn't have done it without the help of the American people. For too long, these asylums have had such a bad reputation in history, but thanks to all my efforts, that's going to change. The whole point is to allow the patients to learn trade skills. To feel like they're actually useful. That's our goal at Mount Massive. Our-_"

Emily switched the station, a slight wave of irritation coursing through her as she took in the slightly arrogant tone in his voice. _Ugh, _she thought, _Just HIS efforts? Couldn't he at least give other people some credit? _

Whatever. She didn't have time to worry about what Jeremy Blaire or Murkoff were doing to try and refurbish Mount Massive Asylum. Truth be told, she didn't care much about any of what was in the news to begin with. She'd tune in every now and then if it was a major story, but other than that, she figured there was already enough misery in the world without having to be reminded of it on television.

Still, there was something about this latest development with Blaire, Murkoff and Mount Massive Asylum that bothered her the whole rest of the way back, and she didn't know what it was.

* * *

By the time Emily made it back to her neighborhood, Cherry Creek, she was exhausted, and so ready to visit the hot tub before climbing under her covers. She hadn't mentioned it to the Johnsons before, but that was one of her favorite hobbies, the hot, bubbling water relaxing her muscles after a long afternoon at work. It was the only way she knew how to relieve her stress, where she could be alone and not have to worry about everything going on in the outside world.

As she pulled into her driveway, Emily sighed again, taking in her three-floor home that she'd lived in for her whole life. Like all the other houses in Cherry Creek, it was spacious, and clearly meant for a family that was a little more well-off than most. She shook her head as she locked the car doors and took her keys out, entering the large, well lit foyer after pushing the door open. "I'm home!" she called out, and as soon as she did that, she heard the familiar sound of her German Shepherd bounding down the stairs in order to greet her.

"Hi, Jane!" Emily cried as the dog leaned in to lick her face, crying in happiness as she allowed one of her masters to scratch her behind her ears, "How are you? It's good to see you, too!"

Jane barked, panting just as more footsteps reached Emily's ears, and she glanced up as she spotted her parents emerging from their bedroom.

"Oh good, you're home!" Mrs. Wilkins cried, tying her bathrobe a little tighter around herself as she clutched the banister. Emily took in her mother's light skin, brown hair, and brown eyes as she made her way down the stairs, moving forward to pull her daughter in for a hug.

"How was work today?" she asked.

Emily let out another sigh. "It was good," she answered, "But really tiring. I think I'm going to go sit in the hot tub for a little while. Just to wind down before I go to sleep."

"Good idea," Mrs. Wilkins commented, "Your father and I were just saying you needed to find something to help you relax. You're always so _tense_, Emmy."

Emily winced. "Is it that obvious?" she asked.

Her mother nodded as she adjusted her glasses. "Yes. And relaxing in the hot tub is one of the best stress relievers out there. Now, go ahead before it gets too late."

And with that, Emily kissed her mother good night and made her way upstairs, pausing to say the same to her father before finally arriving at her own bedroom.

_And now, I finally get to relax_, she thought happily to herself as she began to change into her favorite black bikini, standing in front of the mirror as she placed her hands on her hips and studied her appearance. Her long, jet black hair was still braided from before, her tan skin somehow looking a little lighter than in the past, and her brown eyes slightly darker than usual. That was probably because of the aforementioned stress her mother had been referring to.

Just as she finished changing and reached up to undo her braid, however, Emily suddenly heard her phone ring from her bed. _Odd, _she thought as she padded over to the other side of the room and reached for the mobile device, _Nobody ever calls me at this time of night_. The number flashing on the screen seemed vaguely familiar, though, and she bit her lower lip as she slid her thumb across the screen and held the phone up to her ear. "Hello?" she asked.

"_Em!_" the high-pitched, slightly scratchy voice on the other end cried, "_Thank God I reached you! I knew I could find your number somehow!_"

Emily felt her heart begin to beat a little faster as she clutched her phone even tighter. "_Sarah_?" she spat incredulously, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you! What's going on?"

"_You better get over here fast,_" Sarah replied, "_It's…Ty. He's trying to go street racing and he keeps insisting that he's okay enough to drive someone else's car when he clearly isn't. Or even just being a passenger. Maybe you can somehow…God, I'm really sorry for pestering you like this, Em, but-_"

"It's okay," Emily assured her gently, "I'll be right over to pick you guys up. Whatever you do, _don't _let him leave the house." She hung up, tossing her phone on the bed as she sighed, folding her arms as she glanced over at a picture of her and her twin brother posing in front of the Eiffel Tower three years ago. Like always, a goofy grin was plastered across his face as he gave a thumbs up to the camera while Emily simply smiled, tilting her head to the side.

"Tyler, Tyler, Tyler," she mumbled to herself, "What sort of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

* * *

_**Elsewhere in Cherry Creek…**_

"Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!" everyone in the room chanted over and over again as Tyler Wilkins reached for a bottle of cotton candy vodka and poured some more in the cluster of empty shot glasses on the table. As soon as he was finished, the same people who had downed the first round of shots cheered as they reached forward and picked up their glasses, toasting each other before leaning their heads back and swallowing the vodka in one gulp.

"You guys should have waited for me!" Tyler joked as he laughed and shook his head, "Now I have to do this alone!"

"Go for it, Ty!" one of his friends shouted from the other side of the table, "_Tyler! Tyler! Tyler!_"

Soon, it was as if the entire room was chanting his name, stomping their feet on the ground, and slamming their fists on the table, and he didn't think twice before tilting his head back and downing the shot, earning cheers from his friends as he put the shot glass down and took a deep breath. He already had a bottle of Corona Lime waiting for him, and he reached for it as he took a sip, glancing around the room as everyone else talked, laughed, danced, and partied the night away.

It wasn't just the festivities that helped him to relax: the loud house music blaring through the tall speakers always helped keep him in his element, where he had nothing else to worry about and he could just simply have a good time. There was no sense in getting worked up over life when it was so short to begin with. _This is the life, _he thought to himself as he glanced up at a group of his friends who had sat down next to him. He knew several of them had talked about going street racing in a little while, and despite his friend, Sarah's, protests, he still wanted to go anyway. There was nothing more exhilarating than putting the pedal to the floor and speeding down the highway at almost one hundred miles an hour, even if he was just the passenger in someone else's car.

"So, Jason," Tyler began in a slightly slurred voice as he suddenly thought of something that he'd heard on the news earlier during dinner, "Did you hear about Murkoff finally raising enough money to refurbish Mount Massive Asylum's Vocational Block?"

His best friend, Jason, simply waved his hand dismissively as he began to roll a couple of joints. "Mount _what_?" he asked.

"You know," Tyler replied, taking another sip of beer, "That asylum up in the mountains. The one that was closed in the '70s, but then reopened back in 2009? I just heard today that-"

"Ty," Jason interrupted as he lit one of the joints, "No offense, but nobody _cares _about some lunatics up in the mountains, all right? So why do _you_?"

Tyler swallowed some more Corona, his face feeling slightly warm now from all the alcohol he had drunk that night. "Well, I figured it could be something interesting-"

"Look," Jason cut him off for a second time, "We're here to have a good time, okay? Not for you to get all hung up on the news and shit. Now, shut up and light up." He passed the other joint to Tyler, who accepted it as he lit it and began to take a few puffs, the smell of marijuana filling his nostrils as the haze began to slowly help him relax. _Jason was right, _he thought to himself as he tilted his head back again. Why had he even _bothered _to bring up what he'd heard on the news? He was here to have a good time with his friends. That was what he was all about, and he'd be damned if he made anyone think otherwise, especially at the risk of sounding like-

"_Tyler_!"

Tyler gasped as he leaned forward once more, throwing his joint on the table as he heard that familiar, sharp tone of voice that he had grown to hate. Jason and the other boys who had joined him also looked up from what they were doing, breaking into raucous laughter as they reached for their cups of vodka this time.

"Well, well, well," Jason slurred as he grinned from ear to ear, "Looks like the Ice Queen has decided to join us mere commoners after all." Another round of laughter ensued, and Tyler glanced up from the table as he found himself staring at none other than his sister and Sarah.

"Can it, Jason," Emily snapped as she narrowed her eyes at him in response, "Tyler, what are you doing?" She turned to face him next, fixing him with the same icy stare that made him flinch. He noticed her focus was mostly on the joint he had tossed onto the table, and he could only imagine what she was going to say about that.

"Nothing," Tyler insisted, "Just having a good time, that's all. Why do you have to be such a fucking _killjoy_?"

Emily ignored him as she leaned forward, cleared away the joints and shot glasses, and grabbed her brother by his hand. "Come on, get up," she ordered, "We're leaving."

Jason laughed for a third time. "Who are you?" he asked, "His mother?"

"No!" Tyler yelled, slapping his sister's hand away, "She's not. Just go away, Emily. I don't need you to babysit me all the time."

"I think you mean _Mom_, Ty," one of the other boys called out, "Sounds like she has a set curfew for you these days." More raucous laughter filled the room, with some of the others mumbling _Ice Queen _under their breaths as Emily and Sarah tugged on Tyler's arms. Tyler glanced up at his twin sister, unable to decipher what she was thinking and feeling due to the emotionless expression she wore on her face. This was not the first time she had pulled him away from a party like this, and he could feel his irritation increasing by the second as the girls led him towards the front door.

"See you later, Ice Queen!" Jason called out after Emily, "Good luck pulling that stick out of your ass!"

Emily ignored him, directing Tyler and Sarah towards her car that she'd decided to park one block away, just in case somebody ended up calling the police on the party. Without wasting another minute, she forced her brother into the passenger seat while their friend climbed into the back, and Tyler cursed under his breath as Emily gunned the engine to life and began to drive back to Sarah's house so that they could drop her off. At first, there was a tense silence in the car until Emily eventually broke it.

"Thanks for calling me, Sarah," she thanked her, "And letting me know about this."

Before Sarah could respond, Tyler suddenly spoke up, finally unable to hold back his irritation with his sister. "What the hell was that back there?" he demanded, "Where do you get off on embarrassing me in front of my friends all the time?"

Emily frowned, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter now. "_I _was embarrassing _you_?" she spat, "I'd say you were already doing a good job of that yourself. You're lucky I got there before the cops did!"

"Nobody called the cops on us!" Tyler quipped, "Because nobody gives a damn about people throwing a party! Unless they're uptight, fun-hating _prudes_ like you! And for the record, weed is really not _that _bad for you, but of course you wouldn't see it that way. It's no wonder my friends hate you so much!"

"_Friends_?" Emily cried incredulously as she quickly slammed on her brakes to avoid running a red light, "You honestly think Jason and those low lives are your _friends_?"

"Yes!" Tyler snapped, "Believe it or not, they are! It's a hell of a lot more than _you _have, that's for sure! Maybe if you stopped acting like you're better than everyone else just because you want to go to graduate school, you'd have some friends, too!"

"Guys!" Sarah yelled from the back seat, making both of them jump in their seats, "Stop it! _Please_! Can't you wait until you get home to kill each other?"

Tyler sighed petulantly as he turned his gaze to the view outside his window. "You shouldn't have called her in the first place," he said.

"Don't be angry with Sarah," Emily chided him, "She did the right thing."

"Shut _up_, Emily," Tyler replied as he raised a hand up to his forehead, "Nobody's even talking to you right now." His sister said nothing, merely clenching her teeth as she kept her eyes on the road up ahead as she did her best not to snap at him in response. The three of them remained silent for the rest of the ride, the tension so thick that they could cut it with a knife, and Tyler sighed for the umpteenth time as he studied Emily and the emotionless mask she had settled back into. That was the only expression she wore around him these days, which only added to his irritation even more. It was as if she couldn't stand the sight of him, as if she wished anyone else but him was related to her, and it ate away at him constantly, no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

Things hadn't always been this way, he recalled despite the fact that his head had begun to spin from the mix of weed and alcohol. There was a time when the two of them used to get along a lot better than they did now, but he could never seem to figure out why Emily had all of a sudden snapped and morphed into an uptight control freak, and why she was always worried about money when she really didn't need to be. Both of their parents were doctors, who made enough money to give them the comfortable life they'd known since childhood. He knew they would always be there to take care of their children, so he just couldn't understand why she seemed to be so concerned with not having any money at all.

After dropping Sarah off, the Wilkins twins continued on the way back to their house, eventually pulling into the driveway as Emily parked behind Tyler's Lexus. "I should have taken Road Warrior tonight," Tyler lamented, using the nickname he had decided to give his car after his parents had bought it for him, "Then I could have just done whatever _I _wanted."

"Which was what?" Emily quipped, "Nearly getting yourself killed on I-70?"

Tyler climbed out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut as he stormed over to the front door, pulling his key out in order to let himself in. Emily quickly followed him, marching up to the door as well as she frowned at her brother. "Could you at _least _give me the courtesy of not slamming my car door shut like that?" she asked sharply.

Tyler whirled around to face her as he pushed the front door open. "No," he snapped, "I couldn't, because you sure as hell have no consideration for _anybody _else!"

Emily balked before laughing harshly. "Oh, that's _rich_, coming from you! How about-"

"Tyler! Emily! What is going on down here?"

Both siblings gasped as they suddenly heard their normally soft-spoken father yell at them from the staircase, their mother joining his side at the same time. In his slight buzz, Tyler completely ignored the angry tone of voice, instead taking in his father's appearance and noticing how much more he looked like him than his mother. Unlike Mrs. Wilkins, Mr. Wilkins was a middle-aged, African American man with slightly greying black hair and brown eyes, and Tyler rolled his eyes as he wondered if the fact that his parents were two different ethnicities was the reason why people kept claiming that him and his sister looked "exotic".

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Tyler!" Mr. Wilkins snapped, "Now one of you better explain to us why you're storming into the house so late at night and arguing with each other!"

Tyler felt his irritation rise even more as Emily glanced up and pointed at him. "I had to go pick _him _up," she said, "Because he was out getting drunk and stoned again! _And _he wanted to go street racing!"

"I was having fun before _you _showed up and humiliated me!" Tyler fired back, "Like you always do, because you're just that much of an Ice Queen!"

Emily fumed as she placed her hands on her hips and glared at her brother. "You know what, why don't you just-"

"_Enough!_" Mrs. Wilkins interrupted them as she raised her hands, "Both of you! Listen to yourselves! You're twenty two years old and arguing like you're ten! Can't either of you hear how ridiculous and immature you sound right now?" Neither Emily nor Tyler said anything in response, only giving their parents withering stares as their father picked up where their mother left off.

"Look," he said, "I don't know why you two always seem to be at each other's throats these days, but I do know that your mother and I are getting tired of it. Either don't speak to each other at all or work out your differences, because I refuse to spend another day in this house with all this negative energy going around."

Tyler folded his arms impatiently. "There's nothing for me to work out," he declared, "That's all on Emily."

"This isn't just about your sister," Mrs. Wilkins piped up, "We've told you time and time again that you need to start trying to move away from that wild child, partying lifestyle. It's time for you to grow up and start acting your age."

"I _am _acting my age," Tyler insisted, but his mother ignored him as she then turned her stern gaze to her daughter.

"And Emily," she continued, "It wouldn't kill you to get some friends and get out of this house on the nights that you're off from the Cheesecake Factory. All you do is worry about your job and school, but there's more to life than that. Don't let all of this pass you by, because you're only young once."

Emily didn't say a word, merely glancing down at the floor as she replayed Mr. and Mrs. Johnson's words in her head. "I know," she mumbled, "But-"

"No buts, Emily," Mr. Wilkins interrupted her, "We're both going back to bed now, and I don't want to hear another raised voice from either of you tonight. Is that clear?"

Tyler and Emily let out a deep breath at the same time, giving each other steely glances as they slowly nodded. They could put aside their feud for now, until another opportunity came along, but that didn't mean it was over in the least.

"Good," Mrs. Wilkins said, "We'll see you both in the morning. Good night. And _no more fighting_." She and Mr. Wilkins stepped forward to kiss both their children before turning and heading back up the stairs to the master bedroom. Once they were gone, the twins silently made their way to their rooms as well, colliding on the staircase as they glared at each other again.

"Good night, Emily Vanessa," Tyler whispered harshly, using both Emily's given name and middle name, which he knew always got under her skin.

"You too, Tyler Anthony," Emily replied, pushing past him as she hurried upstairs and shut her door behind her. Tyler remained on the staircase, clutching the banister as he glanced at all the family photos on the walls. His eyes eventually landed on one of him and his sister at the age of eight, when they'd gone on a trip to Disney World with their parents and grandparents. Both of them looked happy and carefree, without any of the drama that befell them in recent years. He couldn't believe how long ago those days seemed to be now, and they were days that he realized he might never see again.

And with that, he continued up the stairs, unaware of the fact that a phone call in the not too distant future would set off an unexpected chain of events for both him and Emily.

One that would change everything that they thought they knew.


	2. To Grandmother's House We Go

All right! Here we go with the next chapter of "The Asylum Games"! Thank you very much to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story! I really appreciate it and I'm excited to start getting into the events of the game! Thanks again! :D

******DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Two: To Grandmother's House We Go**

_**The next morning…**_

_Nothing like a nice bowl of Cocoa Puffs to start the day, _Tyler thought to himself as he finished pouring himself a bowl of the chocolate cereal and grabbed a spoon from the drawer next to him. He'd been starving since Emily dragged him home the previous night, like he always was whenever he smoked weed with Jason, and he'd wolf down all the contents of the refrigerator if he had his way. _That'd definitely piss Emily off, _he thought as a small smirk formed on his face at the idea, _Good_.

Still laughing to himself, Tyler took his place at the dining room table, taking a sip of orange juice as he reached for the remote. He sighed petulantly as he realized there was nothing on that was worth watching at that time, so he began flipping through the channels until he finally found something interesting: the morning news. Without even realizing it, he inched a little closer to the television in order to hear what the anchor, Brian King, was saying. Right now, he appeared to be standing right outside Mount Massive Asylum with a news crew as they filmed a live shot for that morning's news show.

"_So, Mr. Blaire,_" Brian began after he must have reported another story about the recent charity project, "_What can you tell us about the Vocational Block? What sort of trade skills do you have available for the patients to take up in their spare time?_"

Tyler frowned as the camera switched over to Jeremy Blaire, who was currently running a hand through his black hair as he blinked his blue eyes a couple of times. He was dressed in a black, three piece suit with a red tie, and he smiled almost smugly as he folded his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "_Well, Brian,_" he began, "_I've come up with a lot of different skills that I thought would keep them occupied. It's all closely monitored, of course, to make sure absolutely nothing goes wrong. Some of them learn how to bake simple desserts. Others immerse themselves in carpentry and plumbing, both very useful skills. One of our more high profile patients, Eddie Gluskin, has taken quite an interest in sewing and designing women's clothing._"

On the screen, Brian raised an eyebrow in shock, and so did Tyler at that last statement. "_Really?_" he asked, "_He's interested in women's clothing?_"

"_Yes_," Blaire replied as he nodded, "_It's wonderful, isn't it?_"

Brian didn't answer, only turning to face the camera again as he continued, "_As you may recall from earlier this year, serial killer Eddie Gluskin, who was more infamously known by his nickname, 'The Groom', was arrested and charged with twenty two accounts of first degree murder, as well as twenty two of sexual assault, ten of domestic violence, and one of attempted murder. After pleading not guilty by reason of insanity and undergoing several examinations, Gluskin was deemed mentally unfit to stand trial and instead transferred to Mount Massive Asylum for further psychological evaluation._"

At that moment, Eddie Gluskin's mug shot flashed across the screen, and Tyler frowned as he gripped his spoon a little tighter, wishing that they would stop focusing so much on him and instead turn their attention to his victims.

"He ought to be locked away in a federal prison," Tyler suddenly heard his father speak up as he entered the kitchen in order to make himself a cup of coffee, "After killing and mutilating all those young women like that."

Tyler took another bite of Cocoa Puffs. "He would be if he wasn't mentally unfit to stand trial," he pointed out, "He hasn't even been convicted of anything yet."

"That's a damn shame," Raymond Wilkins lamented as he reached for the milk, "He's been in that asylum long enough now. Somebody has to eventually give him the all clear to go back to court." He shook his head and finished making his coffee, pouring a little bit of milk into it and stirring it with a spoon.

"So," he continued as he grabbed the morning paper and sat down next to his son, "Have you spoken to your sister at all this morning?"

Tyler shook his head as he kept his focus on the news, which was now showing a weather report for the Denver area. "No, I haven't. And honestly, what's the point? All she ever does is get pissed off at me for every little thing I do. It's like she…I don't know, like she can't _stand _me or something. Because I'm not like her."

"Oh, that's not true, Ty," Raymond insisted, "Em may not say it out loud, but she loves you and is just trying to look out for you."

"But that's the thing," Tyler said, "Just because she's older by three minutes doesn't mean she has to always keep an eye on me. I'm an adult and I can look after myself."

Raymond simply stared at his son as he took a small sip of coffee. He never liked to side with one of his children over the other, preferring to simply give the best advice he could and let them take care of the problem themselves. "Well, if you feel this strongly about it, then you need to tell her all this yourself."

Tyler laughed harshly. "Dad, this is _Emily _we're talking about. Talking to her is like talking to a brick wall. She won't listen!"

Before his father could say anything in response, they both heard the phone ring, and Raymond reached for the cordless phone on the counter as he answered it. "Hello?" he asked, and as he continued to grip the phone, Tyler returned to his breakfast, finishing the last bit of it as he went to watch the news again.

"Oh hi, Vanessa!" he greeted, "How are you this morning?"

Tyler nearly spit out his Cocoa Puffs in shock. _Grandma? _He thought incredulously, _That's random. We haven't heard from her in months! _

"I'm doing well, too, thanks," his father answered, "I hear Hannah coming downstairs now, so I'll put her on the phone once she gets here."

Tyler merely frowned, wondering what his grandmother wanted as his mother finally entered the kitchen and took the phone from Raymond.

"Morning, Mom!" Hannah greeted as cheerfully as possible, "What's going on?"

Tyler turned his gaze away from the television as his grandmother replied from the other end of the line, and at the same time, he spotted Emily as she padded into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to grab a cup of yogurt.

"Oh, sure!" Hannah exclaimed, "I'm sure they'd love to! I'll run the idea by them and then have them call you back later, okay? Talk to you soon! I love you!" She hung up the phone, placing it back in its socket as Emily took her place at the table and began to stir her yogurt.

"Was that Grandma?" she asked, "How is she doing?"

Hannah sat down across from her children as Jane dove under the table, looking for scraps before Tyler reached down to scratch her behind her ears. "She's good," Hannah reported, "Doing surprisingly well, considering the circumstances. But that's not why she called. I know this may seem a bit last minute, but she wants to know if you'd both be interested in going to visit her in Durango for a few days."

Both Emily and Tyler's mouths dropped open in shock, but not before Emily's eyes widened in excitement. "Really?" she asked, "She wants to show off her new house?"

"It sounds like it, from what she said," her mother answered, "She also said she needs help going grocery shopping and getting a couple more pieces of furniture for her house. So if you two aren't going to be busy for these next few days, and if you can request some days off from your job, Emily, maybe you could plan on taking a drive down there together to see her."

At first, neither Emily nor Tyler said anything in response, but once what their mother was saying finally sank in, they both vehemently shook their heads. "No _way_!" Emily cried as she held up her hand, "I would never get into a car with _Mr. Speed Demon_ behind the wheel, even if my life depended on it!"

"Well, that's just fine with me, _Ice Queen_," Tyler spat, "I wouldn't let you touch Road Warrior with a ten foot pole!"

"Like I'd want to be near that old wreck, anyway!"

Tyler balked. "Road Warrior is hardly a _wreck_! At least it has a healthy amount of miles on it, because I actually use it! How many does _yours_ have, exactly? _Ten_? Do you even go anywhere else other than the Cheesecake Factory?"

"Tyler! Emily!" Raymond piped up, "What did we say last night? Enough with the back and forth and constant arguing!"

Hannah frowned as she poured herself a cup of coffee as well. "And are you two really not going to visit your grandmother just because you don't want to take the drive together?" she added, "She's the only grandparent you have left! If you're not going to put aside your differences for our sake, at least do it for hers! I think she would be very upset if she knew how petty you both were being about all this." Tyler and Emily remained silent, simply staring down at the kitchen floor as they both felt shame course through them, though they would never admit it to each other. Deep down, they knew their mother was right, and that they should try to spend as much time with their last living grandparent as they could.

"Besides," their father chimed in, "I think you two taking a road trip together would be a great idea. It'll give you a chance to talk about different things, and maybe even reconcile with each other after whatever happened to make you two start fighting in the first place."

The twins lifted their heads and glanced at each other once more, both of them silently weighing the pros and cons in their minds as they slowly nodded. Sure, they both wanted to visit their grandmother, but they weren't sure how long they'd last in the car before they started bickering again. On the other hand, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have each other for company over the six hour drive. That way, if one of them got tired, the other could take over the wheel for a little while. They wouldn't necessarily have to _speak _to each other, which was completely fine with both of them, and by the time they got to Durango, they'd be too focused on helping their grandmother finish getting settled in to "work out their differences".

Not that they even _wanted_ to, anyway. As far as they were concerned, they were beyond that point now. Both of them were pretty much permanently set in their ways, and nothing-not even any kind of unexpected turn of events-was going to change that.

* * *

_**Two days later-2:00 PM…**_

"Em!" Hannah called out, "Come on! You two need to get going so that you don't hit a lot of traffic!"

Emily felt herself crash back to reality as she pulled her gaze away from a poster of the University of Colorado that she'd hung up in her bedroom. It was a reminder of part of her goals and dreams, and something she wanted to wake up to every morning for encouragement. It was the whole reason she had taken the job at the Cheesecake Factory in the first place, though she still couldn't believe that she had actually managed to get the whole rest of the week off on such a short notice. "Coming!" she cried, racing around her room to grab her phone, her sunglasses, and her black, short-sleeved sweater, which she quickly threw on over her beige tank top and white shorts. After slipping on her black fingerless gloves and jamming her feet into her favorite knee-high boots, she grabbed her purse and suitcase and hurried downstairs, eager to get this trip started so that they could get to Durango faster. _I still think we should have left much earlier than this, _she thought as she sighed and shook her head, _This is so typical of Tyler. Does he ever get up on time for anything? _

Meanwhile, Tyler was already by his car, stuffing his suitcase in the trunk as his father helped him. He felt a slight breeze blow over him as he pulled his leather jacket over his light blue T-shirt, jeans, and sneakers, and like his sister, he also wanted to get this trip started so that there would be less of an awkward silence. He almost still couldn't believe that he was actually about to take Road Warrior on a cross-state road trip, but he was confident that his car would get them where they needed to go in one piece. _If Emily makes one more crack about Road Warrior, I think I'm going to scream, _he thought to himself, _Next time, she should drive her own car if she has so much to say about mine. _

But he didn't say any of that out loud, merely forcing a smile on his face as he watched his sister step outside and slip her sunglasses on. "Ready to hit the road, big sis?" he asked as he flexed his hands.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get going," Emily replied, adjusting her sunglasses as she placed her suitcase in the trunk and then went to embrace her parents and her dog. Once she pulled away, Tyler moved forward to do the same as Jane began to bark before whining and wagging her tail.

"Aww, don't cry, Jane!" Emily piped up as she went to go pet her German Shepherd one more time, "We'll be back! We're just going to help Grandma for a few days!"

"Yeah, we won't be gone for long!" Tyler added, "And we'll call Mom and Dad to let them know how we're doing on the road."

Hannah glanced up from the ground as she nodded. "That's right. And _don't forget_, either. Every couple of hours!"

"Oh, they'll be fine," Raymond assured her, waving his hand nonchalantly, "They're twenty two years old, and they'll look out for each other." _I hope, _he added silently to himself as he waved at his children, telling them that he loved them as they said they loved their parents in return.

At the same time, Hannah just watched as they backed the car out of the driveway and began to pull away from the house, crossing her fingers behind her back the whole time.

* * *

_**Two hours later…**_

"_So what we go out! That's how it's supposed to be!_" Tyler sang along with the radio as the Wiz Khalifa, Snoop Dogg, and Bruno Mars song continued to blast through the speakers, "_Living young and wild and free!_" He pressed the button to open the window next to him, allowing the breeze to blow through his hair as he continued to cruise down Interstate 70, enjoying the view of the Rocky Mountains around them. He always felt a sense of pride and joy whenever he gazed at the different peaks, feeling lucky to be able to witness something so majestic, and he breathed in the mountain air with a content sigh. He then turned his gaze towards his sister, who hadn't said a word since the trip began. Instead, she was currently on her phone, staring at something on the screen, though he couldn't imagine what, since there was barely any service up here, let alone any kind of Wi-Fi. He bet that the data plans weren't even working, either, and part of him wished that she would just be able to stop and admire what was in front of her once in a while.

"Don't you want to look at the Rockies, Emily?" Tyler asked, "Instead of being on your phone the whole time?"

Emily finally tore her gaze away from the screen, simply giving her brother a look as she replied, "I've seen them a million times, Tyler." She glanced down at her phone again and swiped her finger across the screen.

"Besides," she continued, "In the few hot spots we've hit so far, I've been looking at Google Maps to check the traffic, and it looks like we're about to hit a really bad traffic jam soon."

Tyler groaned under his breath as he slammed his fist against the steering wheel. "_Fuck_," he cursed, "Are you kidding me? For how long?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. It could be hours trying to get through here, with whatever happened to make traffic practically stop. You've had the radio on this whole time. You could have checked the traffic report!"

"Why didn't you tell me to do that earlier, then?"

Emily glared at him. "Do you expect me to tell you _everything_? You're the _driver_! It shouldn't be my job to baby you and tell you what to do! You should take the initiative and try to do things on your own sometimes! But while we're on the topic, if you had listened to me before we left the house, we could have just taken Route 285 south and completely avoided this highway! Better yet, we should have just left the house this _morning_!"

"Well, we didn't, okay?" Tyler snapped, "Now you just have to deal with it. Believe it or not, some things don't end up happening exactly the way _you _want them to."

Emily balked. "I never said I wanted them to!" she insisted.

"Well, that's sure as hell how you act most of the time!" Tyler fired back, "You always have to have everything planned so meticulously and then have a field day if something unexpected ends up happening. It's like you're anal about it or something."

Emily laughed as she pushed some hair out of your face. "Oh, really?" she asked, "Well, I'd rather be anal about how I plan everything than take your approach, which is to not do anything at all. Not _once _have I ever heard you mention anything about trying to save up money to buy your own apartment, get a job, go to college, or anything like that."

Now it was Tyler's turn to crack up as he put his foot on the brakes, slowing Road Warrior down as they finally began to get caught in the aforementioned traffic jam. "Why should I _have _to worry about that?" he questioned, "Mom and Dad are both doctors! They said they'd always be there for us, and I'm taking full advantage of that! Why leave home for something else when I have everything right there?"

_Unbelievable, _Emily thought to herself as she frowned. "Oh, I don't know," she replied in a slightly sarcastic tone, "Maybe it's because Mom and Dad are not always going to be there to take care of _you _all the time. They're not the unlimited bank you think they are, Tyler."

_Whatever, _Tyler thought, turning his gaze back to the stretch of highway in front of him as the traffic continued to crawl due to an overturned tractor trailer blocking some of the lanes. An uncomfortable silence filled the car, with Tyler glaring at the cars up ahead and Emily returning to Google Maps, trying to see if there were any light traffic spots in sight. So far, there weren't, and she sighed as she realized that she and her brother were going to be stuck together for God knew _how _long.

_This was the worst idea ever, _they both thought to themselves two hours later after finally making some progress and nearing the White River National Forest, _Taking a trip together to see Grandma. We should have each taken our own cars and driven separately_.

Once she realized that around 6:30, they were finally off Interstate 70 and now cruising down Route 24, Emily put her phone away, finally glancing out the window as she eyed the blue skies above them. In another hour or so, the sun would start to set, and she realized that they hadn't considered what they would do if they ended up still driving when it was night time. They were already passing by Leadville, one of the very few towns in the area before they entered the mountains once again, and if they were going to find any sort of hotel, they were going to have to wait until they got all the way to Buena Vista. She quickly glanced over at Tyler's dashboard and saw, to her relief, that he still had a good amount of gas in his car. They'd probably have to fill up on more once they got to Buena Vista, but she figured they could worry about that then.

Suddenly, the twins felt the car shudder before it slowly ground to a halt as Tyler gasped and put his foot on the brakes. "Tyler?" Emily asked cautiously, "What the hell was that?"

Tyler felt his heart begin to beat a little faster as he quickly brought his car to a complete stop and shut off the engine. "I…I don't know," he stammered, "Hold on…" He turned his key to start the ignition again, only for the car to continue shuddering as it remained idle, a loud rumbling reaching their ears as he cautiously moved forward.

"Damn it," he hissed under his breath, "Why _now_? You were running just fine this whole time! All Jason did was replace the spark plugs last week."

Emily's mouth dropped open in horror as she zeroed in on the name her brother had just uttered. "_Jason?_" she spat, "You let _Jason _do repair work on your car? Instead of going to a professional?"

"I thought he could help, okay?" Tyler snapped defensively, "His dad's a mechanic! He claimed he picked up a few tricks from him!"

Emily narrowed her eyes. "Are you sure he wasn't high when he replaced the spark plugs?"

Tyler glared at her. "_No!_ He wouldn't do that to me! He knows how much I love Road Warrior!"

_Not well enough, apparently, _Emily thought to herself as she sighed and glanced out the window. The sky was a little darker now than it had been before, and she shivered as she took out her phone again and looked at the map.

"We'll just have to turn around and go back to Leadville, then," she said, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice, "Do you think the car can make it that far?"

Tyler shook his head, his heart sinking more and more every second. "I doubt it. And I'm too scared to try. There has to be somewhere a little closer that we can go to."

Emily glanced down at her phone again, silently cursing the fact that she had no service here. She eventually decided to search through the glove compartment, finally setting her eyes on the road map their parents had given Tyler when they first bought the car for him. She realized it might be wise to save what battery power she had left on her phone and stick to the manual map as she unfolded it and spread it across her lap, turning on the overhead light so that she could see. While Tyler continued to fiddle with the ignition, Emily quickly found Leadville on the map, using her finger to trace the current route they were on as she tried to guess where their exact location was. She lifted it a little closer to her face as she squinted her eyes so that she could read the names of the different mountains in the area, and it was upon further inspection that she realized that the only one closest to them was…

"Mount Massive," she whispered under her breath just as she heard her brother turn off the ignition once more.

"What was that?" he asked, frustration lacing his tone of voice over their predicament.

Emily took a deep breath. "According to the map," she spoke up a little louder, "We're near Mount Massive. Isn't that asylum around here, then?"

Tyler's head shot up as he had the same epiphany. "Yeah," he confirmed, the wheels beginning to turn in his head, "Yeah, you're right. Let me see the map." Emily passed it to him, and she leaned in to look over his shoulder as he traced the same route with his finger.

"Of course!" he cried, "Mount Massive Asylum! I think Road Warrior might be able to make that trip instead of going all the way back to Leadville. There has to be _somebody _there who can help us. Or maybe we can use a landline there, since we don't have any service."

As soon as he said that, Emily quickly checked her phone, only to see that he was right about them still not having any service. It wasn't the best plan they had thought of, but did they really have a choice? If the asylum was the only place where they might be able to get some help, then they'd take it over sitting outside in the middle of the road all night. Plus, they'd have to find a way to contact their parents and grandmother to let them know where they were and what was going on.

And with that, Tyler carefully turned the ignition back on, making a three-point turn as he began to follow Emily's directions all the way to Mount Massive Asylum, hoping and praying that somebody there would somehow be able to help them get back on the road.


	3. The Unwelcoming Committee

All right! Here we go with the next chapter! Thanks again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! :D

**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Unwelcoming Committee**

"How much further is it?" Tyler called out over the suddenly strong gusts of wind, pulling his black leather jacket even tighter around himself.

"Not too much further now!" Emily yelled back from a few feet ahead of him as she continued to make her way across the dirt road leading to the asylum.

"Besides," she added with a smirk on her face, "You could use the exercise, anyway."

Tyler lifted his gaze from the ground and glared at her. "Very funny," he grumbled, "Let's just get inside, find a phone, and then leave as soon as possible."

Emily chuckled to herself, her own feet never growing tired since she was used to standing up for long stretches of time at her job. At the same time, though, she realized she was telling the truth when she said they weren't too far now, especially after passing the large sign leading to the asylum. She shivered in the cool, mountain air as she wished she had thought to dress in something a little warmer, but then again, she hadn't expected that they would end up stranded here.

It hadn't been much longer since they first figured out their location that Road Warrior's engine eventually died for good in the middle of the road leading to Mount Massive Asylum, which had forced the twins to get out and walk the rest of the way. Except for the sound of their footsteps, the wooded area around them was silent, which left them both feeling uneasy for some reason. They would never admit it to each other, but they were suddenly grateful that they had decided to take this trip together. Neither of them could imagine walking along this silent path alone.

Eventually, the road opened up a little more in time for Tyler and Emily to finally spot the towering building that must have been Mount Massive Asylum. Despite the time of day it was, all the lights were still on, which made the twins wonder if anybody ever got any nights off in this place. Tyler peered around the front, wondering if he could spot the Vocational Block from where he was standing, but unfortunately, he couldn't see it. It wasn't like he and Emily were going to get a tour of the place while they waited, anyway.

Both of them paused for a minute, simply staring at Mount Massive Asylum as they took deep breaths, still wondering if they were doing the right thing by going here to find help. For some reason, Emily felt her heart begin to beat faster as she studied the building she'd seen several times in the news whenever everyone else was watching it, but she forced herself to ignore it as she continued to move forward. _You're just going in there to ask to use a phone, _she thought to herself, _Nothing more. There's no reason to be so nervous._

"Hey, Tyler," she spoke up, glancing over her shoulder at her brother, "Shouldn't there be a security guard in this booth?"

Tyler picked his gaze up from the ground again, studying the empty booth they had just passed as they ducked under the tollbooths. "Yeah," he said, "You're right. Why hasn't anybody come to stop us yet? Or ask for ID?"

Emily didn't get a good feeling about this, but she simply shrugged as she replied, "Maybe there's higher security inside. Or the guard who's supposed to be on duty skipped for some reason. Come on." And with that, she continued to lead the way through another pair of open gates, emerging into a circular pathway right in front of the main door. The scenery was beautiful, but they couldn't stop to admire it for long as the sun continued to set. They wanted to get inside as quickly as possible, and they could only begin to imagine what their parents were thinking due to their long silence.

After another few minutes, Tyler and Emily finally made it to the front door, with Tyler reaching for the doorknob as he slowly turned it and pushed the door open. Neither of them were sure what they were expecting to find, but it definitely wasn't what they found themselves facing as they stepped inside.

For a second, all they could do was stop and look around in awe as they took in the odd mix of old-fashioned elevators and ancient, slightly rotting wooden walls that stuck out amongst all the modern technology, such as the flat screen computer monitors in each of the side rooms. Emily briefly wondered why Murkoff never bothered to upgrade the elevators when they reopened this place, but her curiosity was gone just as quickly as she remembered the real reason she and Tyler had decided to come here.

"May I help you two?" the security guard at the high-tech front desk piped up in a bored tone of voice, and Emily cleared her throat as she and Tyler approached the man that had just addressed them.

"Good evening," Emily began in a pleasant tone of voice, "My brother and I were driving along Route 24 when we ran into a little trouble with our car. This was the only place we could make it to before we broke down for good, and since we don't have any cell phone service, we were just wondering if we could please use a landline to call Roadside Dispatch. Just to have them send a truck to help us."

"Oh, and our parents and grandmother, too," Tyler quickly added as he raised a finger, "Just to let them know what's happening and so that they're not worried about us."

The security guard's face remained neutral, though he did lean back in his seat and fold his arms as he regarded the twins. "Of course," he eventually said with a nod, pointing to one of the side rooms, "Down that way, there's a desk with a landline on it. You may use it to call for help."

Tyler and Emily both breathed a sigh of relief, exchanging a smile for the first time in a _long _time as good fortune seemed to be coming their way at last. "Thank you _so _much!" Emily cried as she clapped her hands in excitement, "You have no idea how much this means to us! We promise we won't take long!"

"Well, let's not just stand here!" Tyler quipped, "Let's go!"

And with that, the two of them hurried over to the desk the guard had pointed out to them, with Tyler reaching for the phone itself and dialing the Wilkins' home number. The two of them were so caught up in trying to get themselves back on the road that they didn't notice the suspicious look the security guard was giving them as he frowned, reached for his own telephone, and punched in several numbers. He didn't take his eyes off the twins for a minute as he finally made contact with the person he was trying to reach, taking a deep breath as he tried to slow down his fast-beating heart.

"Sorenson?" he whispered, "Get me Mr. Blaire. I think we have a potentially deadly situation on our hands…"

* * *

Martinis were always the best way to cool down after a long day-after golf, of course.

Jeremy Blaire leaned back in his plush rolling chair as he took a sip of his Dirty Martini, stirring the olive he had garnished it with as he enjoyed the taste of olive juice, gin, and vermouth on his tongue. He glanced at his red tie, which he had taken off days ago after doing the interview with Brian King, and he hoped that was the last of speaking with the press about the asylum. He was thankful that Brian hadn't asked him if he could take his news crew inside the Vocational Block, though; that would have been bad for both them _and _Murkoff, and the last thing he needed was for something else to upset the balance of things, especially after what happened nearly half an hour ago now.

Jeremy clenched his fist as he turned his gaze back to the monitor in front of him, watching as the Morphogenic Engine Program was well on its way yet again. He couldn't help but glare at the man currently strapped in the chair, his blonde hair a mess and his blue eyes forced to stay open so that he couldn't close them or look away from the screen. Jeremy felt no pity for him, merely smirking as he took another sip of his martini, feeling that karma had finally caught up with Waylon Park for what he'd done. Murkoff did _not _spend the last four years maintaining a respectable image only to have one whistleblower bring it all down like a house of cards.

Suddenly, the phone on his desk began to ring, and sighing irritably, Jeremy put his drink down and picked it up, twirling the cord around his finger as he slowly spun to the left in his chair. "Jeremy Blaire speaking," he greeted in a cool, clipped tone to let whoever was bothering him know that they were interrupting his much-needed relaxation time.

"_Mr. Blaire_," Samuel Sorenson, one of his most trusted security guards, replied in a contrite tone of voice, "_I'm so sorry to have to call you like this, but Montgomery asked me to patch him through to you. He says there's a situation at the front desk and wanted to tell you about it._"

Jeremy felt a knot form in his stomach as he clutched the phone even tighter now. Hearing that there was a "situation" was never a good thing to him, and he almost _didn't _want to know what might be happening this time. "Fine," he huffed, raising his other hand to his forehead and massaging his skin, "I'll take the call." He heard a few clicks before he finally managed to reach Montgomery, who kept his voice low as he took a deep breath.

"_Mr. Blaire, thank goodness,_" he whispered, "_I wish I didn't have to tell you this, but I've got a young man and woman here who claimed to have car trouble and that this was the only place they could go for help. They wanted to call their family and Roadside Dispatch, and I let them use the phone, but-_"

"You did _what_?" Jeremy interrupted him, not quite yelling, but definitely speaking in a slightly louder voice as he began to feel sick with anxiety. Why did some of his highly intelligent and competent guards have to be such _idiots _sometimes?

Montgomery appeared to have picked up on this as well. "_I'm sorry, Mr. Blaire,_" he apologized, "_But at first, I thought they were telling the truth. Now, as I'm watching them, I'm not so sure. They've been on the phone for a while now. Do you think that they could be speaking in code and that they're actually trying to expose us?_"

"Of course they are!" Jeremy snapped, his paranoia beginning to take over as he recalled the incident with Waylon from earlier, "Is that even a question? There's no other reason why two people would conveniently become stranded _here, _out of all places. _Park _must have contacted them hours ago, too." _Oh, I could just kill him right now, _he thought as he felt his whole body begin to shake in anger.

"_So what should we do about this?_" Montgomery asked, "_We obviously can't let them leave the asylum now_."

Jeremy considered the question as he forced himself to calm down once again. He couldn't help but have a flashback to the "light anesthetic" his guards had given Waylon, their punching and kicking bringing a small smile to his face. "Bring them to me," he ordered as he calmly reached for his martini and took one final sip, "I believe two available cells have just opened up in the Prison Block."

* * *

"Okay," Tyler sighed as he hung up the phone, "So far, so good. At least Mom, Dad, and Grandma know where we are now, so they don't have to worry about us."

Emily nodded, adjusting her fingerless gloves as she allowed another smile to creep up on her face. "All that's left now is to call Roadside Dispatch," she added, "I'm sure you've learned your lesson by now _not _to trust Jason with another repair job?"

Tyler narrowed his eyes at her. "So I made a mistake," he admitted, "I already feel like shit without you constantly reminding me about it, so you don't need to do that."

"I'm just saying…" Emily started, but didn't finish as she thought better of it, "Whatever. Let's just call them and see if they can get a truck up here for us. The sooner we're back on the road, the better." She reached for her purse as she took her cell phone out, quickly scrolling through her contacts as she finally found Roadside Dispatch's number, giving it to Tyler as he reached for the landline and picked it up for a third time.

Just as he was getting ready to dial the number, however, Tyler suddenly felt somebody grab him from behind, violently yanking him away from the desk as the phone clattered to the floor and disconnected. Next to him, he heard Emily let out a startled yelp, and he turned to his left as he watched the security guard from the front desk wrap his arms around her waist in an attempt to restrain her. Out of instinct, the two of them began to fight back, attempting to get out of the guards' tight grips as they dragged them back into the main lobby. "What the _hell _do you guys think you're doing?" Emily screamed as she continued to try and kick her way out of her restraints, "Let go of me!"

"Shut _up_!" the guard holding her growled, slapping her across the face, which only managed to make Tyler even more angry and confused as he clenched his hand into a fist and turned around to punch the man holding him in the nose.

"_Shit_, they're getting hostile!" one of the others cursed, "Use the Tasers!"

Tyler felt another burst of anxiety as he shouted, "Wait, _what_? _Why_? What the _fuck _is going-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, for he suddenly felt a few painful jolts of electricity in his side, causing him to groan as he collapsed to the ground. His hip burned as he felt two projectiles pierce his skin through his clothing, administering a shock just like the Tasers he'd seen on _Cops_.

"_Tyler_!" he heard Emily gasp, but she, too, screamed and crashed to the floor as the guards pointed the Taser at her next, shooting her just below her rib cage. She eventually gave up on fighting back and remained paralyzed, clutching herself as she tried to suppress her tears. All either of them could focus on was the increasing numbness that replaced the pain, and their muscles felt as if they had locked themselves up and refused to move. Even more upsetting was the fact that they had no idea why the security guard at the front desk had turned on them like this. Just ten minutes ago, he'd shown them kindness and helped them find a phone so that they could make their calls. Why was he all of a sudden leading a group of men to ambush and subdue them with Tasers?

"Now, that's better," Montgomery quipped as he glanced at the twins in turn, "The last thing we need is for them to become hostile again. Let's take them to Blaire before the paralysis wears off."

Tyler and Emily didn't put up much of a fight as they felt the guards drag them towards the staircase on the opposite side of the room, confusion settling in as they continued to feel numb all over. Emily felt her throat close up as she tried to ask her brother if he was all right, but she couldn't even get the words out. Her head was now spinning, and she felt as if she was on top of the Rockies, ready to fall off the summit of Pikes Peak any second.

Meanwhile, Tyler barely felt the foot one of the guards had kicked his back with, and he collapsed to the ground once more as they finally found themselves in what had to be one of the biggest offices in the asylum. One of the first things he noticed through his confusion and vertigo was the martini glass on the desk, right next to the computer monitor that had been powered down. The other was a photograph on the wall of two men clutching golf clubs in their hands as they smiled at the camera, the label underneath it reading, _Rick and Jer Hitting the Greens_.

Before he could look _too _closely, however, he felt as if he was about to pass out as someone suddenly prodded his cheek with another foot, and he glanced up as he found himself locking eyes with a familiar face. The man currently glaring at him and his sister looked to be in his mid to late 30s, and he had black hair, blue eyes, and what appeared to be a permanent smirk on his face. The only thing different about him was that he didn't seem to be wearing the red tie that he'd worn when he was on television a few days ago.

"You know," the executive began as he shook his head, "I feel like I'm having a bit of déjà vu here. Do any of you feel the same way? Somebody tries to stupidly blow the whistle, I find out about it, and then I have my guards take them out. Sound familiar, Sorenson?"

"Yes, Mr. Blaire," Sorenson piped up as he glared at the Wilkins twins.

At that name, Tyler glanced up as his mouth dropped open in shock, a moment of clarity breaking through his confusion. "Blaire," he muttered as he licked his lips, "You're Jeremy Blaire, the director of the asylum!"

Jeremy chuckled as he completely turned his gaze to the younger man. "I see you've done your homework," he remarked, "Impressive. Almost as impressive as the story you two told Montgomery at the front desk. Running into car trouble near Mount Massive Asylum? Even _I _almost believed that one."

This time, Emily was the one to glance up, wincing in pain as she said, "That wasn't a story. That was the truth! We really did break down outside the asylum, in a 2013 Lexus ES 350. We were just trying to call our family and Roadside Dispatch! You can even go outside and check if you don't believe us."

"There you go again," Jeremy retorted, shaking his head in disapproval, "Telling more lies. Keep it up and your nose will almost be as long as Pinocchio's." He laughed at his own joke and then knelt down until he was at eye level with the siblings.

"Just tell me when Waylon Park contacted you and invited you to come to the asylum." Gone was his mocking tone, instead replaced by a more serious, threatening manner, and Tyler and Emily couldn't help but shiver at how menacing he had become in such a short time.

"What are you _talking _about?" Tyler dared to speak up, "Who the _hell _is Waylon Park?"

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. After earning a nod from Jeremy, Sorenson reached out and kicked Tyler in the side that had been shot with the Taser, causing him to gasp and double over as he cried out in pain. "_Stop it_!" Emily cried from his left, "Leave him alone!" No matter how much her brother might have gotten on her nerves from time to time these days, she still hated seeing somebody hurt him like this.

Jeremy ignored her pleas as he reached for his martini glass and began to pour himself a second round of his drink from before. "You don't have to protect Park anymore," he insisted, "Let's just say that he's been taken care of for what he's done. All I need is for both of you to cooperate with me so that we don't have to keep doing this the hard way."

"But we really don't know what you're talking about," Emily tried to reason so that Tyler wouldn't have to take another beating from Jeremy's guards, "We never talked to anyone named Waylon Park. Honest!"

Jeremy took another sip of his martini, considering what she was saying as he turned around, pulled out his rolling chair, and took a seat, crossing his legs in the process. For a second, both twins felt a glimmer of hope as they wondered if maybe he had finally seen reason after all. A few seconds later, however, that hope faded as the executive smirked at them, running his finger across his glass.

"You know," he said, "Pathological lying is one of the most controversial topics when discussing mental illness. Is it the disease itself? Or a symptom of something more serious? Who knows? But that's why all of us at Murkoff are here. To help you discover what might be wrong with you…and _correct _it." He snapped his fingers, and once again, his guards proceeded to punch and kick both siblings, ignoring their cries of pain as he picked up Emily's purse and Tyler's wallet, opening them and taking out their driver's licenses. He studied their information as the guards began to lead them towards the Prison Block, and he reached for his martini glass one more time and raised it up as if he was toasting them.

"Tyler and Emily Wilkins," he said, "Thank you for volunteering to check yourselves in at Mount Massive Asylum."


	4. Fresh Meat

All right! Here we go with the next chapter of "The Asylum Games"! Thank you again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! Now, we should be starting to get into the events of the game, as well as seeing more of the canon characters! I'm feeling a bit iffy about this chapter, so let me know what you think! :D

**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

**WARNING: **This chapter contains some sexual content and some descriptions of blood. I don't think any of it is too bad, but I'm going to put a warning anyway, just in case.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Fresh Meat**

The room came to her by degrees. Emily wasn't sure how much time had gone by, or where she was, but all she knew was that her body ached all over, especially underneath her rib cage. Her muscles still cried out in pain from the impact of the Taser, but she no longer felt dizzy like she had hours ago, and she realized she must have fallen asleep at some point. A harsh, yellow light in her cell blinded her as she slowly opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, her head pounding slightly as she raised a hand to her forehead.

_Wait a minute, _she thought as she studied the bare skin on her hand, _What happened to my gloves? _She then glanced down, widening her eyes in shock as she noticed that she was now barefoot, too. Those had been her favorite pair of boots! Where had they gone?

That was when a sliver of beige caught her eye, and when she glanced down at her feet again, she gasped as she finally realized that she was wearing something completely different from when she had first entered the asylum.

She was no longer wearing her sweater, tank top, or shorts, but a dirty, short-sleeved beige jumpsuit that was at least one size too big for her, as well as a white, sleeveless shirt underneath that. Whoever had changed her had apparently been generous enough to let her keep her underwear, she realized with a wry chuckle, but it still made her feel extremely uneasy that someone had changed her clothes while she was unconscious. Had they done the same to Tyler? Where _was _her brother, anyway? She hadn't heard a peep out of him yet, and she had to admit that she was starting to really worry about him. He had fared much worse with the Taser than she had, and she nearly cried again at the memory of Sorenson beating him for asking who Waylon Park was.

Who _was_ Waylon Park, and why had his name repeatedly popped up in their conversation with Jeremy? What exactly had he "blown the whistle on" in the asylum to make the staff suspicious of anyone who walked through the front door? Whenever she had caught the news with Tyler and there happened to be a story about Mount Massive and Murkoff, Emily never thought there might be anything unscrupulous going on behind closed doors, but now she was sure of it. She just didn't know _what_.

_At least we now know that Jeremy Blaire is an even bigger asshole than we thought_, she thought to herself as she remembered listening to his interview on the radio a few nights ago. She still couldn't believe the horrible, inhumane way she and her brother had been treated so far, and she knew that once their parents found out about this, they'd definitely want to take Murkoff and the asylum to court. _If _they ever got out, that was, since Jeremy seemed dead set on keeping them both locked up for something they didn't do. Part of her wondered if he knew they were being truthful about their situation, but still wanted them committed anyway to keep them quiet about whatever was going on.

_I just hope that the staff doesn't treat any of the patients the way they treated us_, she thought as she sighed and shook her head.

"_Silky_."

Emily whipped her head up as she jumped where she was sitting, a low hiss of a voice reaching her ears from somewhere outside the cell she was currently locked in. She'd been so caught up in trying to adjust to her new surroundings that she hadn't thought to look around the rest of the Prison Block. Now, she wasn't sure she even wanted to.

"You look so silky," the same voice repeated a few seconds later, and when she finally turned to face the rest of the room, she yelped and jumped backwards, slamming her hand onto the bed post next to her.

Standing right outside her cell was a man wearing the same jumpsuit that she was, his arms wrapped in a straitjacket and a blindfold tied around his eyes. His face was covered in scars and all other sorts of deformities, and Emily wondered what could have happened to him to make him look like that.

"Do you itch?" he asked, taking a step closer to the cell, "You look like you have an itch."

Emily simply backed away, not saying anything in response as she inched closer and closer to the wall. The man must have sensed her fear somehow, for he took another step towards her cell, practically leaning against the bars as he stared in her general direction, making her heart pound even more.

"Don't be scared," he whispered, "I want to help you. If I may…I need to tell you a secret."

Emily balked. _What? _She thought, _What secret? I don't want to know any of this man's secrets! Why doesn't he just back the fuck away from my cell?_

She moved to her left, close to the bed, and to her horror, she watched as the man moved over as well, his movements matching hers as he proceeded to lean against the bars once more, simply standing there and not revealing whatever his big secret was. Why was he following her like this? What did he want from her?

"Are you my friend?" he asked, but before either he or Emily could do anything else, somebody suddenly grabbed the patient by his arm, roughly dragging him away from the cell as a more authoritative voice spoke up.

"Damn it!" it cursed, "You got out of your cell _again_? How many times am I going to have to ask you to _stay _there and stop following people around, Jensen? Nobody is to leave this area until we know it's safe."

Emily glanced around the man-Jensen-as she caught sight of another one of Mount Massive Asylum's guards, dressed in a blue polo shirt, navy blue pants, a hat, and boots. He carried a flashlight on one side of his belt and a Taser on the other, which made her realize that they must have used them to subdue any patients that became too hostile and violent as well. Although she didn't have that high of an opinion of the security guards here so far, she still wondered if maybe the one in front of her, whose nametag read Bertrand, would be of some use, since he'd stopped Jensen from harassing her even further. She sat back and waited for Bertrand to bring the other man back to his cell, and as soon as he turned and walked past her again, she moved forward and cleared her throat.

"Excuse me," she said, "Sir?"

Bertrand stopped in his tracks, which gave her the incentive to continue.

"Can you tell me what's going on around here?" she asked, "Why do we have to stay here until it's safe? Is something happening in other parts of the asylum?"

The guard didn't respond at first, merely giving her a look of disdain that made her frown in turn. Wasn't there _anybody _in this place that could provide a simple answer without getting all bent out of shape?

"Oh, right," Bertrand sneered, "You're one of _Park's _contacts. Figures you'd ask a bunch of questions."

There was that name again. _Park_. The way the guard put a nasty emphasis on it made Emily once again suspect that whatever had been exposed was something very serious and extremely top secret. "No, I'm not," she replied in what she hoped was a calm voice, "This is all just a big misunderstanding. Now, can you help me out or not?"

Bertrand scoffed. "Of course I can't," he said, "Mr. Blaire's explicit orders were to keep you here at all times. If you think I'm going to tell you what's going on in the rest of the asylum, think again."

Emily sighed, realizing that she was getting nowhere with this man as she eventually asked, "Do you know where my brother is?"

"Hey!" Bertrand snapped, "What did I _just _say? Shut the fuck up!"

Emily glared at him, briefly taken aback by his tone. "My God," she mumbled, "Rude, much? I was just asking a question."

Bertrand didn't say anything else, merely turning away from her cell as he folded his hands behind his back and began making his way over to the other side of the room. As soon as he was a good distance away, Emily suddenly heard a whole bunch of whispering from the other cells around her, which she could only imagine were more of the patients that were stuck here as well.

"You hear that?" one of them asked, "That sounded like a woman's voice. I haven't heard one of those in a _long _time."

"Yeah, I heard it, too," someone else piped up a little louder, "She's over here, right across from my cell. How did we not notice her before?"

"Probably because the power was out, dumbass. Get a good look at her now if you can."

Emily froze, clutching herself as she caught the various male voices around her, her stomach sinking as it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't seen a single woman during her time here so far. _Great, _she thought as she face palmed herself, _As if our situation couldn't get any worse_.

"Oh, she's real cute," one of them declared as he moved forward to gaze at her from his cell diagonal from hers, smiling as he licked his lips.

"Tan skinned with dark hair. Just the way I like 'em."

In the cell next to him, the first man who had pointed her out laughed. "_That's_ all you're looking at?" he scoffed, "I'm more interested in what's _underneath _the jumpsuit. That's the most important part. Besides, it's been _way _too long since I've been with a woman."

"Well, you'll just have to wait a little longer. I saw her first." The patient turned back to Emily, licking his lips once more as he eyed her from head to toe, his gaze lingering a little too long in certain places that made her cross her arms defensively.

"What do you say?" he asked her, "I promise I'll be gentle."

"No," Emily snapped, giving him her supposedly famous icy stare that she always used on Tyler's friends.

The man seemed momentarily surprised, but he recovered a few seconds later with another round of laughter. "Feisty," he commented, "You'll definitely be a fun one. Once they let us out of these cells-"

"You won't be doing anything at all," another familiar voice spoke up, loud and angry, "Entertain yourselves if you have to, but don't even _think _about touching her or doing anything with her."

_Tyler!_ Emily thought as she glanced up and spotted her brother finally sitting up in the cell directly across from her, shaking his head as he glared at the two patients creeping on his sister.

"But she looks so _tasty_," the other man whined, "Just one bite. That's all we're asking."

"She already pretty much told you to go to hell," Tyler fired back, "I think that's enough to say that she's not interested. Now, back the fuck off."

The patients glared at him before turning away from him and mumbling to themselves, casting longing glances at Emily as they smiled once more, pointing at her in a silent promise to pick up where they left off later. Emily shuddered, looking away from them and locking eyes with Tyler, who she could see was dressed in another filthy beige jumpsuit, his hair a little wild and his eyes wide.

"Are you okay, Emily?" he asked from across the room, shifting closer to his cell door as he peered through the bars at his sister.

"Yeah," Emily replied as she glanced down at her arms, "I-I think so. Are you?"

"I'm okay," Tyler assured her, though he winced as he clutched the side where he had been shot and kicked, "I hope those assholes weren't bothering you for too long."

Emily shook her head. "They weren't. Thank you, though. For what you said."

Tyler looked away. "Don't mention it." He then broke into laughter as he also shook his head, though Emily knew it wasn't because he found anything particularly funny.

"So," he continued, "How does it feel knowing you're a pathological liar?"

Now, it was Emily's turn to laugh ruefully as she traced a circle on the floor next to her. "I don't know if you'd believe me if I told the truth," she joked, "God, I could just _kill_ Jeremy Blaire right now."

Tyler's eyes widened even more at that last statement. "Man, it must be serious if _you're_ talking like that," he teased, "But all jokes aside, I feel the same way. How could he _do _this to us? We didn't do anything wrong!" He slammed his fist into the bars, making Emily flinch from the other side of the room.

"Waylon Park," he growled, "I _really _hope you had a good reason for doing what you did."

Emily remained silent at first, simply taking in Tyler's words as she twisted her hands in her lap. She didn't want to be as quick to rake Waylon over the coals, though, seeing as how neither of them knew his side of the story. "I'm sure he did," she said, "It's just a matter of finding out what it was. _And _figuring out a way to get the hell out of here as well."

Tyler sighed, face palming himself as he reluctantly acknowledged that his sister was right this one time. But that didn't mean he was letting Waylon off the hook that easily. Not until he knew the whole truth, anyway.

All they could do for now was simply stay put and try to figure out what was going on elsewhere in the asylum, as well as a way to get themselves out of their current predicament.

* * *

It wasn't much later that Tyler began to feel restless, turning on his side on the filthy, dried blood-covered mattress that he was currently laying on. Unlike Emily, he hated sitting still for long periods of time, always needing to be doing something or moving somewhere. He didn't know how the other patients in the Prison Block could stand it, especially with the whispers he and Emily had heard after quieting down. Something about an uprising taking place in other parts of Mount Massive? And those men that had been accosting Emily mentioned something about there being no power for a while? Had all that happened while the two of them were unconscious? It must have, if the blinding lights being turned back on were any kind of indicator.

Right now, Tyler could hear the patients diagonal from Emily doing their best to kick the door down to let themselves out of their cells. In another corner of the room, someone was crying softly as another patient tried to get him to quiet down. "Shh, shh, shh!" he hissed, "Keep it down, will you? Or else he'll hear us!"

"W-who?" the crying man stammered, sniffling quite loudly and sounding as if he hadn't gotten his hands on a tissue in a _long _time.

"Walker, of course! Keep up your little crying jag and he'll come to kill us all!"

Just like that, the sobs immediately stopped. "W-walker? Oh, no, I-I don't want him to be around. He scares me."

"No shit! So cut the waterworks!"

_Walker? _Tyler thought to himself, _Who's that? Better yet, do I even want to know? _

He decided that he didn't.

Tyler sat up a little straighter as he glanced across the room at Emily, who was currently tying a piece of fabric around her waist-presumably to tighten the jumpsuit a little bit-as well as using a smaller piece of cloth to tie her hair into a high ponytail. Her facial expression was neutral again, so he couldn't tell if she was rattled by the lewd comments the other patients had made towards her earlier. He still couldn't believe how _bold _they'd been, and if he hadn't been imprisoned the way he was, he might have gone over and punched them in the face for talking to his sister the way they did. Even though Emily sometimes drove him crazy and annoyed the hell out of him, he still hated hearing anyone speak to her in such a manner.

That was something he would never be all right with. Even _Jason_, for all the times he'd poked fun at Emily, never made any kind of comments like the other two patients did.

"Is he in the cell now?" an unfamiliar, deep voice suddenly spoke up out of nowhere, making Tyler sit up even straighter as he stood up and walked back over to the bars in front of him.

"Yes, is he?" a similar voice also asked as the sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, piquing his interest as to who this could be now. Bertrand was nowhere to be found, presumably patrolling the floor above them and allowing some of the patients on their level to roam around freely.

"He is," a third voice confirmed as Tyler and Emily exchanged a glance from across the room, "I put him in there to ensure that he does not leave this place before he sees everything that is happening. It's been at least a few hours now, so he should be waking up at any moment. That's where you two come in."

At that moment, three people finally entered Tyler's line of sight, and they weren't like anybody he or Emily had ever seen before.

Two of them looked nearly identical (with the exception that one of them was taller than the other), with similar muscular body types and light brown eyes, though one was bald and the other had short, black hair. Both of them were naked and covered in blood, and each one had a long scar on his side, though with the way they were arranged, Tyler wondered if they were conjoined at some point. One carried a meat cleaver while the other carried a machete, and he couldn't help but flinch as they tapped the weapons loudly in their hands. Although he had no idea who they were, he was getting the distinct feeling that they weren't people he'd want to mess with.

The third man looked very different from the other two, and the Wilkins twins could tell that he was clearly the leader of the trio. He looked to be older, perhaps in his sixties, with a bald head, brown eyes, and a black robe with a white cross on the front, like a priest's. To Emily, the material of the robe looked a lot like the one on everybody else's jumpsuits, and other parts looked like they came directly from straitjackets, which made her wonder if this man had fashioned the outfit himself. _Where's the Bible_? She couldn't help but think to herself as she continued to watch him walk by, carrying a bucket full of blood in his hands as she tried not to throw up at the sight. What was he planning on doing with _that_?

"He will need to know the way in order to see everything," the priest continued, "Perhaps my finger painting will be of some use." He held up the bucket for emphasis.

"While I do that, I'd like you two to look after him once he wakes up."

The other two, who Tyler and Emily silently decided to dub The Brothers, simply traded a glance, looking extremely conflicted as the one holding the cleaver frowned in thought. "Must we?" he asked, "You know how difficult it is for us to stay patient for that long."

"Yes," his brother, Brother Two, piped up in agreement, "Eventually, we're going to want to kill him."

Tyler and Emily were surprised at how the priest didn't seem to flinch at the mention of murder. Instead, he nodded as he replied, "Patience is a virtue. You must try practicing it for both my sake and His. This young man is an Apostle, and I cannot allow him to die so soon. Not when there is so much for him to witness. Do we have an agreement? Do you promise not to kill him?"

It seemed to take a while before either of the Brothers gave an answer, even though it clearly wasn't the one they wanted to settle with. "Yes, Father Martin," Brother One said, twisting the cleaver in his hands.

"Good," Father Martin replied, switching the hand that he carried the bucket in as he suddenly turned and glanced in Emily's direction. Emily found her heart racing again as she watched him raise an eyebrow, half-curious and half-surprised as he began to make his way over to her, practically gliding across the floor as he eventually stopped right in front of her. All Tyler could do was watch nervously from his own cell, tightly gripping the bars to calm himself down as he wondered what this man was going to say now.

"And who are you?" Father Martin asked, "How did _you _get here?"

Emily couldn't help but guess that like the other patients from earlier, it had been a long time since this priest had seen a woman around here, too. She just prayed that he was truly the pious man he made himself out to be and wouldn't end up giving her anymore unwanted advances for the rest of her stay in Mount Massive.

"We walked in through the front door," she answered, her voice cracking a little bit as she cleared her throat again and gestured to Tyler, "And then got unceremoniously thrown in here. Are you really a priest, by the way?"

Father Martin chuckled. "Of course I am," he insisted, "And since I'm starting to get the feeling that this won't be the last time we meet, I have something for you." He carefully placed the bucket on the floor as he proceeded to kneel until he was at Emily's level, dipping his right thumb in the blood as Tyler tried not to vomit from where he sat.

"What are you doing?" he asked, earning glares from the Brothers, who simply remained silent as Father Martin glanced over his shoulder at the young man and gave him a knowing stare.

"Offering protection," was all he said, "I shall do the same for you in a minute." He then faced Emily again as he leaned forward and began to paint a cross on her forehead, as if she was receiving ashes on Ash Wednesday. Tyler watched as his sister cringed at the blood, and he found his mouth dropping open in shock as well. _What the hell? _He thought to himself as he clutched his stomach again.

"Merciful God," Father Martin chanted, "I pray that you will offer protection to this young woman, and guide her through whatever journey she may take in this place. And through whatever she may witness and whoever she may meet, as you will surely protect the Apostle you have sent to me. May you grant her passage and give her peace. Amen."

"Amen," Emily croaked. _Eww, eww, eww!_ She thought as she still cringed to herself at the blood cross on her forehead, _This is so gross!_ It took her all her self control not to wipe it off with the back of her hand, but she wouldn't do it while the priest was still here. She'd wait until he was gone.

"And now, my son," Father Martin announced after anointing Emily and picking up the bucket, "It is your turn." He made his way over to Tyler next, who also winced as the man in front of him proceeded to smear a similar cross on his forehead and repeat the same words he had chanted with Emily, only swapping out the pronouns. _What God does this guy worship? _He silently asked himself, _Because it sure doesn't sound like the God I know_._ Unless I'm wrong somehow._

"May you grant him passage and give him peace," Father Martin said, finishing his second anointment, "Amen."

"Amen," Tyler echoed, unable to keep a trace of sarcasm out of his voice. If the priest noticed it, he did a good job of hiding it as he finished his ritual and picked up the bucket again. Before he completely got back on his feet, however, he leaned in to whisper one last thing to Tyler.

"One last thing before I go," he said directly into Tyler's ear, "Do your best not to lose each other in this place. There are unbelievers who will not hesitate to kill you _or_ her, or do much worse. You should try and find the Apostle once he wakes up, for he will show you the way."

Tyler pulled away, simply blinking and tilting his head to the side as he replied, "Uhh, yeah, sure thing. Find the Apostle, whoever the hell that is. Got it." He then shot a confused glance at Emily, who locked eyes with him as she continued to wear a "What the fuck" expression on her face.

Satisfied, Father Martin hoisted the bucket up even higher as he finally turned and exited the room, leaving the Brothers to their own devices as they resumed tapping their weapons in their hands. Brother One sauntered over to Emily's cell while Brother Two moved to stand next to Tyler, each of them eyeing their respective Wilkins sibling for much longer than was comfortable.

"Father Martin said we couldn't kill the Apostle," Brother One quipped, "But he never said we couldn't kill these two." Emily immediately backed away, not liking where this conversation was going at all.

"That's right," Brother Two agreed, "He didn't. I would like to kill him." He gestured to Tyler, who had frozen in fear again as a sweat began to break out on his forehead.

"He is yours," the first Brother assured him, "And I will do the same with her. We can decide which parts to take later."

It took both Emily and Tyler all their energy not to scream. Neither of them could believe what they were hearing! What was all this about killing them and taking some of their body parts after? For _what_? What did either of them do to deserve this? Would they really go that far?

"Yes," Brother Two said, "Although I already know which ones I want."

"First, we'll do the preacher's bidding," Brother One told him, pointing the cleaver in Emily's direction, "And then…"

"Then?"

"We'll kill these two as a reward for our patience."

"Yes. I like that idea."

And with one final smirk at the Wilkins twins, the Brothers also exited the room, presumably going to wait for whoever the Apostle was to wake up. As soon as they were gone, Tyler breathed a sigh of relief, though his heart was still hammering as he hoped and prayed that he and his sister would never encounter those two again. He reached up to wipe the blood cross off his forehead as Emily did the same, not wanting any reminders of where they were and what might happen to them anywhere on their bodies. He'd never been so scared in his life, feeling extremely unsettled by the casual way the Twins had discussed killing both of them.

Suddenly, a little while later, an alarm went off, startling everyone in the room as a recorded voice suddenly echoed through a speaker somewhere above them. "_Attention, Murkoff personnel,_" it announced, "_An emergency evacuation is in progress. Please proceed immediately through the Administrative Block to exit. Patients and the restrained are advised to remain calmly in their room until help arrives. Thank you for your cooperation._"

_I knew it! _Emily thought as she clenched her hands into fists, _I KNEW something was going on! That's why we have to stay here! Apparently, Murkoff must not give a damn about their patients if they're so willing to leave us here. Maybe Waylon was right to do what he did._

"Tyler?"

Tyler glanced up after Emily called out to him, and he noticed she was staring at him with wide eyes as she gripped the bars on her cell.

"We need to get out of here. I don't think I can take this anymore. Being stuck here like this with people already talking about how they want to _kill _us."

"Don't worry," Tyler assured her, "We will. It's just a matter of figuring out something. Maybe whoever this mysterious Apostle is can help us?"

Emily ran a hand through her ponytail as she sighed. "I hope so," she said, "I _really _hope so."

* * *

Another hour or two passed since Tyler and Emily first met the Brothers and Father Martin, and Bertrand had returned to patrol the lower levels once more, now whistling some old show tune as he circled the perimeter of the cells. Emily glared at him as he passed, still smarting from the nasty way he'd spoken to her earlier, and like Tyler, she, too, was beginning to grow restless in her confinement.

That was when she suddenly heard a new noise that she'd never heard before. At first, it was quiet, but she realized that as the accompanying footsteps increased in volume, so did the other noise, and from where he was, Tyler also glanced up from the floor as he honed in on the sounds. The first thing that he and Emily noticed were how scared the other patients seemed to be all of a sudden, and Tyler turned to Emily as he asked, "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Emily whispered in response, trying to keep her voice steady although she was feeling anything but calm, "But I don't like it."

"We've already met some pretty horrifying people so far," Tyler pointed out, "How much worse can it get?"

"Will you two _shut up_?" a voice snapped from the other corner of the room, "You'll only aggravate him even more! Hear his chains rattling? That means he's on his way!"

Before either of the twins could ask anymore about that, they suddenly heard a horrible, raspy breathing sound, along with the chains, and even Bertrand looked frightened as a new voice began mumbling as it continued to approach the room.

"Red on red," it said, "Red on red…and battle, misfortune, and revenge. Violifics, judged by the blood, not the words. Words lie. Blood is red…on red." There was a slight lisp in the voice, but that didn't make a bit of difference as Emily and Tyler found themselves beginning to shake along with the rest of the patients. _Shit, _Emily thought to herself, _Who is that? And what is he talking about?_

"Now, you've gone and done it," the angry patient from before snapped, "Walker must have heard all of you making noise!"

_Wait a minute, _Tyler thought as he recalled the conversation he'd overheard earlier, _This is Walker entering the room? Are we about to meet him, too?_

Sure enough, a massive, hulking figure suddenly entered everyone's line of sight, and the twins gasped as they took in his appearance. Like the Brothers, he was also muscular and covered in blood, except he was wearing pants and combat boots, several chains wrapped tightly around his wrists. He didn't seem to have a nose or lips, which would explain the lisp in his voice, and his face around that area was severely scarred. Emily tried not to stare at him for too long, but she couldn't help it. She didn't think she wanted to know how he'd lost his nose and lips, and she _hated _his heavy breathing as well. Something about it was really starting to get to her, and she didn't know why.

"Can't let the contamination reach the local town," Walker continued to mumble, and despite the fact that they were scared out of their minds, the twins couldn't help but be curious at the same time. What contamination? What was he talking about? And by "local town", did he mean Leadville?

They didn't have much time to ponder over all these questions, though, for suddenly, to their horror, Walker sauntered right over to Bertrand, growling as he grabbed him and lifted him up by the waist. _Holy shit! _Tyler thought as Bertrand began to scream, struggling to get out of Walker's grip as he flailed his arms and legs.

"Fuck, Walker's here!" the patients who had harassed Emily cursed, "Let's get out of here."

And with that, they finished kicking the doors to their cells down and sprinted towards the exit of the room, not looking behind them as Walker moved his other hand from Bertrand's waist to his neck, squeezing it tightly as the guard's hat fell to the floor.

"Shit, shit, _shit_!" Tyler hissed, "Stop it! Put him down!"

Walker paused for a second, slowly turning to face Tyler while Emily's mouth dropped open, waiting in nervous anticipation as she wondered what the other man was going to do next. Tyler flinched as he took in Walker's teeth, which were forever visible due to his lack of lips, and he felt his heart sink as Walker took another deep breath.

"We have to _contain _it," was all he said, and a few seconds later, the twins heard an awful ripping sound that they would never forget.

Emily screamed over and over again, covering her eyes and looking away as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Tyler was too horrified to have the same reaction, instead swearing under his breath as he resolved to look anywhere except at the bloody scene in front of him. What had just happened? _Why _was this happening? What exactly was this hulking man trying to contain? Why did he have to murder the guard in such a violent, disgusting way?

And what would stop him from killing any of them next?

Walker didn't react to Emily's screams, or the fact that she was even there, merely tucking Bertrand's head under his arm as he turned and walked back out of the room, his chains rattling as he took each step. Once her screams died down, Emily forced herself to stare at the remaining bloody heap as she began to get the feeling that she and her brother were going to have to get used to these sort of sights. As much as she hated it, things had just taken a deadly turn for them, and she wanted to find a way out more than ever.

And somewhere up above the chaos, a camera's night vision switched off.


	5. Without a Paddle

All right! Here's the next chapter of "The Asylum Games"! A big thank you again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! Hopefully, the next chapter won't take as long! :D

**DISCLAIMER:**Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Without a Paddle**

_Christ, _Miles Upshur thought to himself as he turned off his camcorder's night vision in order to save battery power, _As if this evening couldn't get any shittier. _

Even that was an understatement, he realized as he lifted the camcorder again and aimed it where the rest of the guard's body was situated, zooming in on the gruesome scene as he tried not to throw up. He'd always hated the sight of blood, but he knew he was going to have to put that aside if he was going to explore the rest of Mount Massive Asylum. Not that he _wanted _to by any means, but he'd been practically forced into it at this point, so he'd see this mission through to the end. Or at least, collect enough information to write for his independent, underground website.

When he'd received a tipoff from an anonymous Murkoff employee hours ago, Miles hadn't known what to think at first. Could there really be illegal, secretive, and terrible things happening to the patients at Mount Massive? There were never any indicators in the news that anything suspicious was happening here, but that email definitely cast some doubts on that thought. Miles, who by then had begun to run out of stories to write about, had eagerly jumped at the chance to get out of his apartment in Englewood for a while, immediately grabbing his notepad, a pen, and his trusty camcorder, like he always did. He remembered how he'd filled up on gas at the gas station two blocks away from his building, and how he'd hung his name tag underneath the rear view mirror of his red jeep, just in case somebody stopped him and needed to see some sort of ID.

He also remembered driving right past a silver Lexus on the dirt path that led to the asylum, though it looked like it had been abandoned, and he couldn't help but shake his head in bemusement. What he wouldn't have given to own a ride like that some day! What sane person would have left such a nice car sitting in the middle of nowhere? Where was the owner?

Miles had pushed those questions out of his mind just as quickly. He didn't have time to worry about a wayward vehicle, even if it did seem out of place. He had thought almost nothing of it after that as he continued on his way to Mount Massive, parking right outside the security booth as he grabbed his belongings.

What he _hadn't _expected, however, was to find the place in almost complete ruin.

Miles couldn't believe it when he had climbed in through a broken window only to find all the rooms trashed, the televisions broken, and blood all over the floor. Some of the doors had looked as if they had been kicked out of their hinges, and long, fluorescent lights dangled precariously from the ceiling as he had made his way through the vents in order to access the rest of the section he was in. He supposed he should have realized that the lack of security outside was an indicator that something wasn't right, but he had forced himself to keep going anyway.

As he brought his thoughts back to the present, Miles turned the camera away from the guard's body and instead fixed it on the woman who had been screaming before, though she appeared to have quieted down now. He zoomed in even further as he studied her filthy jumpsuit, the dirt and grime that seemed to be accumulating on her skin, and her jet black hair that was wild despite being tied up in a ponytail. Just like the Lexus he'd driven past earlier, she, too, seemed really out of place, though he couldn't figure out why, other than the fact that she was the only female patient he'd seen so far.

_Whatever the reason is for her being here, she sure had the right idea about that big ugly fucker_, Miles thought to himself as he proceeded to film the rest of whatever he could see of that big room,_ It was bad enough watching him rip that guard's head off from up here, so I can't even imagine what it was like to see that up close. _

Miles winced as he suddenly felt pain in his neck, and he couldn't help but have a flashback to being thrown through a window by Chris Walker nearly ten minutes after entering the asylum. He hadn't even had time to feel fear, for it all happened so quickly, and he knew that after that incident, as well as all the other sightings of him, he definitely did _not _want to cross paths with this guy again.

But there were still those certain words that he mumbled over and over again: "We have to contain it", "Can't let the contamination reach the local town", and anything else that had to do with some sort of security protocol. It was as if Walker was back in Afghanistan all over again, and shaking his head, Miles took out his notepad, clicked his pen open, and hastily scribbled what was currently on his mind.

_What if he's not the problem? What if he's trying to fix it? _

Still, there had to be less gruesome ways to fix whatever problem was preoccupying the asylum.

Miles pocketed the notepad and pen, and after casting one last look back at the woman and the guard's body, he continued on his way, picking up the keycard to access the Showers as he turned and made his way back to the well-lit hallway. After successfully using the card to open the door, he carefully tiptoed through the darkness, turning the camcorder's night vision back on and noticing how his battery life seemed to be draining slightly faster now. _What the hell kind of batteries drain this fast, anyway? _He asked himself, _Someone obviously did a crappy job manufacturing them in the first place. _

A bright flash of lightning suddenly lit up the hallway in front of him, and Miles nearly froze in place as he spotted a silhouette of a man just up ahead. Unfortunately, he was very familiar, the two things standing out the most being that he was naked and carrying a machete in his right hand. _Shit, _Miles thought as he felt his heart begin to beat a little faster, _If he's here, then his psycho twin brother must be around somewhere. This has to be the worst place to run into them!_

What bothered the investigative reporter the most was that Brother Two seemed to be taking his sweet time approaching him, unlike that other Variant that had chased him around the basement while he tried to turn the generator back on. The fact that he apparently went for a more stealthy approach made Miles even more nervous than he already was, and a second later, he glanced to his right as he noticed an open window right next to him. All he could see in the darkness outside was the tree line, which left him unsure of how high up he actually was. But the increasingly impatient Brothers were closing in, and he had nowhere else to go.

_Fuck it, _he thought as he put the camera down and quickly climbed out the window, gripping the ledge tightly and traversing to the right just as he heard Brother One speak up.

"My God," he said in a lazy tone of voice, "He vanished."

"Vanished without a trace," Brother Two piped up in a tone that was just as deadpan, even bordering on snarky a little bit. Miles' hands began to feel clammy on the ledge, and he couldn't help but glance down at the forest below him, gulping as he suddenly pictured himself slipping and falling to his death. The downpour currently taking place outside was definitely not helping matters, either.

"I detect sarcasm," Brother One quipped, his voice getting louder the further Miles traversed, as if he knew exactly where the journalist was and was just waiting for him to climb back inside.

"It was my intention," Brother Two said with a slight chuckle. God, could these two get any creepier than they already were?

"He thinks we're assholes." _Well, you're not too far off there, _Miles couldn't help but think to himself as he paused to give himself a break. His arms were starting to ache now and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he'd have to go back inside.

"Or stupid," the other Brother added, though Miles knew that was definitely not true. He didn't think either of them were stupid in the slightest. Insane, yes, but not stupid.

"Let's pull him in and slit his belly open," Brother One hissed, and Miles' heart nearly stopped as he finally positioned himself underneath the next open window he could spot. This was it; he couldn't hold onto the ledge forever, and he could really feel the strain in his arms as he willed himself to hang on just a little longer. Even working out at the gym three times a week hadn't seemed to prepare him for this.

"Wait," Brother Two whispered, "Just a moment." Miles held his breath as he suddenly heard both their voices and footsteps recede, and he felt a glimmer of hope that they were going in the opposite direction and wouldn't detect him. He waited for another minute or so before finally pulling himself back inside the building, wiping some rain water off his jacket as he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief. They hadn't caught him. They hadn't taken his liver or tongue…yet. There was always a chance that they might strike later, and it was a wonder how that so-called "priest" had managed to get both of them under his control for so long. He could still remember them mumbling to each other about how Father Martin had made them promise that they wouldn't kill his "Apostle", but apparently, they seemed to be running out of patience now.

And Father Martin…Miles still wasn't sure about him. What exactly was he supposed to witness while he was here? He had no idea what was even going on! Hell, he doubted that "Father" Martin was even a priest at all-just somebody who liked to call himself that.

He'd have to wait and see.

After replacing the dying battery in his camcorder with another one, Miles continued on his way to the security control room up ahead so that he could gain access to the next airlock. He'd gone through so many already that everything was starting to look the same to him, and he hoped that this next one would be his ticket out of here. Just like in the previous room, he raced over to the button in the middle of the desk and pressed it, a hissing noise reaching his ears as the airlock activated itself, sending bursts of air into the chamber in order to decontaminate him when he went through.

Suddenly, a loud _crash _echoed throughout the room, and Miles jumped back from the desk, turned, and immediately ran for an open vent above his head just as he heard the sound of broken glass and heavy breathing that was familiar. _Shit, shit, shit! _Miles thought as he leaped onto the other desk that had been behind him, _That sounds like Chris Walker again! _

He didn't stick around to find out, though, for he pulled himself up into the vent just as Walker finally broke into the room, causing the airlock to suddenly catch on fire. As smoke began to fill the area, Miles covered his nose and mouth as he continued to crawl through the vent, not stopping until he finally reached the hallway again, immediately jumping down and running for his life. Behind him, he could hear Walker trying to break down the door, which only made him sprint even faster, and he was suddenly glad his parents had convinced him to take up track and field back in high school and college. It had definitely helped him so far with the running and jumping over various obstacles.

Right as he passed the burning airlock, Miles suddenly heard a loud explosion that made his ears ring, and he screamed as he felt the ground crumble underneath his feet. Seconds later, his stomach zoomed up to his throat as he fell to the floor below, feeling weightless as the air whooshed past his ears. Just as he closed his eyes and wondered when it would all be over, he felt the wind get knocked out of him as he landed on something hard and sharp. Underneath that was something softer and warmer, and when Miles pushed himself up, he gasped as he quickly grabbed his camera, moving away from the pile of dead bodies that had broken his fall.

As he caught his breath and stared up at the dim light swinging back and forth, Miles finally felt the fear that he'd suppressed for so long begin to take over, his hands shaking as he tried to keep his camera steady. He was almost sorry he had decided to answer that anonymous tipoff now, and he didn't know how much more of this he could take before he went insane and ended up needing to check into a mental hospital for real.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, Miles watched as the light above him flickered a few times before burning out for good, leaving him in the pitch black once again. _Well, shit, _he thought as he held up his camera and switched the night vision on yet again, _Guess I'll have to find my own way again. That's just great. _

* * *

"December 1940, nobody knows, we crack the code," Tyler heard one of the patients closest to him mumble under his breath, "Look out, China. December 1941. April 28th, 1945, May 1st, 1945, but it's already too late."

_God, _Tyler thought as he face-palmed himself, _Enough with the World War Two timeline! Can't anybody let us have some fucking peace and quiet around here?_ He hated to admit it, but the more time he spent trapped in this prison, the more irritated he became, and he waited for the moment when he would snap and finally lose his mind like the other patients had. He was still on edge from watching Walker murder Bertrand, and no matter what he did, he could not get the awful image out of his head. He also cursed the fact that Road Warrior had let him and his sister down, for if it hadn't been for it breaking down, neither of them would be stuck here like this, watching other people die and worrying that they might end up dead as well.

Letting out a loud sigh, Tyler sat up as he watched Emily continue to silently stare at what was left of Bertrand's body, her face back to its usual blank expression. He could tell that she was still extremely upset about the whole incident, though, and he cleared his throat as he piped up, "Why are you still staring at him, Emily?"

Emily broke her gaze away from Bertrand and locked eyes with her brother instead, her bottom lip trembling as she replied, "I'm trying to desensitize myself."

Tyler tilted his head to the side. "Why?"

Emily took a deep breath. "I don't know what it is, but ever since we met Father Martin, I've been getting the feeling that this won't be the last horrible thing we'll witness. If I get used to it now, maybe it won't affect me later and I can still keep a clear head in this place."

Tyler glanced down at his lap, simply taking in his sister's words. He wasn't sure if her method was the best way to go about trying to stay calm, but he wasn't going to question her about it. He'd learned a long time ago through one of their many arguments that whatever she decided to do was her business, so he didn't bother anymore. "Okay," he said, folding his hands, "What do you think Walker meant by 'We have to contain it'? What's 'it'?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't know," she repeated, "I was wondering that too. There doesn't seem to be anything _to_ contain except for all the patients. Unless it was just all talk on his end." Somehow, she doubted that, but all she knew was that she hoped to never meet Walker again. The fact that he had been strong enough to decapitate Bertrand with his bare hands sent a chill down her spine. Sure, Bertrand had been an asshole to her earlier, but he certainly didn't deserve to die. And how many other people had Walker killed in the same manner? Perhaps that was why even the other patients were afraid of him.

Emily went back to staring at the guard's body when she suddenly noticed something she hadn't seen before: a flash of brass. Now that the shock had worn off a little bit, she was able to study this new finding a little more, gripping the bars as she widened her eyes in anticipation. "Tyler!" she cried, "I think…I think I see a set of keys underneath Bertrand's leg!"

Tyler immediately sat up again, feeling a glimmer of hope at Emily's words. "Really?" he gasped, "You do?"

Emily nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! If only there was a way for one of us to get to them, though! That has to be our ticket out of here!" _Along with figuring out which ones fit each of our cells, _she thought as she wiped some sweat off her forehead, shuddering at the remaining blood from Father Martin's anointment that ended up on the back of her hand.

"It looks like I'm the closest one to them," she said, "I'll see if I can figure out a way to drag them towards me."

And without waiting for a response from her brother, she reached for the radio that was situated on the desk next to her bed, pulling the antenna all the way up as she stuck it through the bars in an attempt to reach the keys. Every time she felt as if she was making strides, however, she could never quite seem to reach them, nearly straining her arm in her determination. The fact that their means of escape was _right in front of her _only made her try harder, hoping by some miracle that she'd be able to pull this off.

"Try tying a long piece of cloth on the end of the antenna," Tyler suggested, "You might be able to reach the keys that way."

Emily paused, her mouth dropping open in shock as she processed what Tyler had just said, and he was equally as surprised that he had spoken up to try and help her with a task that she had set herself with. It had been _years _since Emily was willing to accept help from other people, including her family, and Tyler knew that if this was any other situation, they would have gotten into an argument about it by now.

But even Emily had enough sense to realize that this was not the time or place to fight with her brother. They had much bigger problems on their hands than a broken relationship, and if they were going to get out of Mount Massive alive, they would have to put their feud aside for the time being. If they were going to eventually attempt to work things out at all, it would have to wait until they were away from this hellish place.

And that was the reason Emily found herself nodding, accepting Tyler's idea as she went to untie the piece of cloth that she'd used to take in her jumpsuit a little bit. Before she could, however, a familiar voice broke into her thoughts, pulling all her concentration away from the keys.

"I have an itch," it whispered, "Do you itch? You look like you have an itch."

_Oh, no, _Emily thought as she gasped, _Jensen got out of his cell again! And Bertrand's not here to stop him anymore! Who's he bothering now_? She moved over to her right in time to see Jensen striding across the room towards someone as he continued to mumble the same things he had said to her earlier.

"Silky," he said, "You look so silky. If I may…I need to tell you a secret." There was no response-only the shuffling of footsteps-and Emily peered through the bars as she spotted a blinking red dot in the dark corner of the room where Jensen had gone. When she narrowed her eyes even more, she realized that it was coming from a camera, and eventually, she was able to get a good view of the new person who had entered the room.

He was a man who looked to be in his late twenties, with short, dark brown hair, a hint of facial hair, and brown eyes. His skin was slightly tanned, and he was wearing a brown jacket, a gray shirt underneath that, jeans, and brown sneakers. Sure enough, a camera was strapped to his right hand, which he continued to peer through as he switched the night vision off, deeming it unnecessary in this well-lit area. _Who's this guy?_ Both Wilkins siblings thought to themselves as they continued to study him. He definitely didn't seem to be a patient, so why was he here filming everything in sight?

"Are you my friend?" Jensen whispered as he continued to follow the camera-wielding man, who looked increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that this patient was harassing him.

"I want to help you," the man quipped, and at that, Emily couldn't remain silent anymore, knowing how it had felt when he had done the same thing to her earlier.

"Oh, leave him alone, Jensen!" she snapped, "I'm sure you mean well, but I don't think he appreciates you following him around like this! If you want him to be your friend, you should start by respecting his personal space!"

Jensen paused as he seemed to consider what Emily was saying, but instead decided to start following the newcomer by a couple of feet instead of a couple of inches. Emily face-palmed herself and shook her head, but she then sat up straight again as the man cautiously approached her cell, peering down at her as he put the camera down and cleared his throat.

"Thank you," he said, his voice deep and slightly husky, "I don't think he'll listen, but I appreciate you trying all the same."

Emily nodded. "You're welcome. I know how it is to go through something like that. He did the same thing to me a few hours ago. He wouldn't leave the area outside my cell until the guard escorted him away."

The man also shook his head. "I can just imagine. When you say 'the guard', though, do you mean…?" He trailed off, glancing over his shoulder at Bertrand's body as Emily nodded again, looking away from the bloody mess as she glanced back up at the man, tilting her head to the side.

"So," she began, "Who are you? You don't look like any of the patients, so what are you doing here? Where did you come from? And why do you have a camera permanently attached to your hand?"

The man didn't answer right away, frowning in suspicion as he held the camera up again and pointed it at Emily. "You first," he responded, "You're the only female patient I've seen in the whole asylum so far, and you don't have the scars and deformities I've seen on so many of the others. So far, you also don't seem to be completely batshit crazy, either, so what's your story?"

Emily chuckled bitterly. "Now, is that in any way fair?" she asked, "How about a compromise instead? I'll tell you one thing about me, and then you'll tell me one thing about you. Deal?"

_Ahh, the Classic Emily Negotiation, _Tyler thought as he continued to grip the bars on his cell_, I hope this guy's prepared for more of that_.

But the man didn't seem fazed, just merely curious. It was clear he didn't know what to think as he replied, "Fine, but you still go first. What's your name?"

"Emily," Emily answered without missing a beat, "Emily Wilkins. And that's my twin brother, Tyler, across from me." She pointed towards the other side of the room, and the man whirled around as Tyler waved at him in return.

"What's up?" he asked in what he hoped was his usual nonchalant voice, "Nice to meet you…uhh…"

"Miles," the man finally spoke up, "My name is Miles Upshur."

_Without a paddle? _Tyler couldn't help but think to himself as he instead repeated, "Nice to meet you, Miles. So, what brings you around these parts? It doesn't seem like Mount Massive Asylum is at the top of a lot of people's sightseeing lists."

Miles turned around to face Emily again as he focused the camera on her once more. He still couldn't believe how sane these two were compared to the rest of the Variants he had met so far, and it only made him even more curious about them. "Remember our deal?" he asked, "Now, you two have to tell me something about yourselves. How did you both end up here? And why are you the only female patient I've seen so far, Emily?"

Emily sighed as she twisted her hands in her lap. She had to admit that part of her was afraid to tell her and Tyler's story to someone else, considering how their last attempt had gone. But at the same time, though, something was telling her that Miles Upshur was someone they could trust. It almost seemed too good to be true, but that didn't stop her from taking a deep breath and explaining everything anyway.

"We're not patients here," she said, "We were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. We were on our way to Durango to visit our grandmother when our car broke down. This was the only place we could make it to, but when we tried to use a phone to call for help, we got ambushed by the guards and thrown in here. They claimed we were lying and thought we were really here to air Mount Massive and Murkoff's dirty laundry, whatever it is. We insisted that we didn't know anything, but they didn't believe us. And we've been stuck here ever since."

As soon as she finished speaking, Miles gasped as he put the camera down again, a light bulb going off in his head as he suddenly put two and two together. "Wait a minute," he said, turning so that he could face Tyler as well, "You ran into car trouble right outside the asylum?"

"That's right," Tyler piped up with a firm nod.

Miles then glanced back and forth between the twins. "So that was _your _silver Lexus I drove past on my way here!" he realized, "Wasn't it?"

"Yeah!" Tyler cried enthusiastically as he nodded more vigorously, "Yeah, it was! A 2013 Lexus ES 350! That's my car! I nicknamed it 'Road Warrior' when our parents first bought it for me, but the spark plugs fried after we left Leadville!"

_There's no way these two can be lying about this, _Miles thought to himself as he considered what they were saying, _They have to be the owners of that Lexus. Hell, Tyler even told me the exact year and model of the car without even having to see a picture of it! At least that would explain why such a nice ride was just abandoned in the middle of nowhere. If it's all true, then neither of them belong here any more than I do._

"So, what do you think?" Emily asked, breaking into the investigative reporter's thoughts, "Do you believe us? If you do, you'd be the first."

Miles frowned in thought as he glanced at Tyler again, who was staring back at him with a hopeful glint in his eyes. "Yeah," he finally said after another minute or two, "I guess I do. I just can't see how you could be bullshitting any of that. Not right now, anyway."

Tyler and Emily breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God that there was someone at last who didn't think they were crazy or lying. "Thank you," Emily quipped, "You have no idea how much it means to us to hear you say that."

"Yeah, at least _someone _believes us now," Tyler added, "Now that we got that settled, what are you doing here? And why are you filming everything around you?"

At the same time, Emily was silently staring at the set of keys again, and she cleared her throat as she spoke up, "Why don't we see if we can get out of these cells first? Then maybe we can talk a little more. I was trying to reach those keys under Bertrand's leg, but I haven't really been having any luck." She pointed at them, and Miles followed her finger, carefully reaching for them as he pulled them out of the guard's pocket, wiping off the blood they were covered with as he held up the heavy ring.

Despite the fact that he said he believed the Wilkins twins, there was still that lingering suspicion in the back of his mind. What if all this was a trap and they were only acting like this in order to gain his trust? What if they killed him the minute he unlocked their cells? Or stole his camera? He could _not _afford for that to happen if he was going to film as much incriminating evidence against Murkoff as possible. But at the same time, he still found it hard to believe that they truly had malicious intentions. They seemed so genuine when they were explaining the circumstances that had brought them to Mount Massive, Emily _had _tried to get Jensen to stop following him, and Tyler _had _described the same car Miles had spotted earlier. He supposed all he could do was just put his faith in the hope that he was right about them and that they were really as good as they made themselves out to be.

"It's okay, Miles," Tyler piped up half-jokingly, as if he had read the other man's mind, "We don't bite."

Miles shook his head, glancing down at the keys as he approached Emily's cell. "All right," he said, "I'll see if I can figure out which key is for each of your cells. With any luck, this won't take too long."

Emily allowed herself to smile, clapping her hands as she replied, "Thank you so much! We really appreciate you helping us out like this!"

"I guess I showed up at the right time, then," Miles chuckled as he held the first key up to the lock, "Seems to be something I'm good at around here."

And before either sibling could ask him what he meant by that, he got to work, ignoring the shouts from the other patients around him to also unlock their cells.

* * *

"Contained," Chris Walker announced after grabbing another patient by the waist and silencing him the same way he had with that guard, and he took a deep breath as he clutched the head in his hand. One more had been taken care of, to his relief.

He still had a long way to go, though.

Chris resumed ambling in the darkness, creeping along as he ducked behind walls and other obstacles every now and then, just in case he heard something. Despite his size and his heavy breathing, he could still be completely silent if he really put his mind to it, doing his best not to let the rattling chains give away his position. As he continued making his way through the Prison Block, all he could think about was his time spent in Afghanistan, and the often paranoid methods he had taken to make sure the group he was part of was always safe and secure. What was it his sergeant had always said whenever they were about to attack the enemy?

"Scout the perimeter, then isolate the target," Chris recalled, turning to the left as he began to climb up a set of stairs in front of him. He was on point now. He could feel it. If he wasn't so obsessed with seeing his mission through to the end, he would have smiled at the knowledge that his efforts would not be in vain. It was just a matter of getting _other _people to understand why he was doing all this in the first place.

Chris perked up as he suddenly heard distant voices. "Someone's here," he whispered, and just like in Afghanistan, all his senses soon became heightened as he held his breath and attempted to listen to the conversation, trying to gauge the person's position so that he could move in. He was so good at hiding himself by now that whoever this was would never suspect that he was here.

"I'm an investigative reporter," the voice was saying in a low tone, "I got a tipoff that something horrible and illegal was happening here, so I came by to see what was going on so that I could write a story on it."

"And have you found anything so far?" Chris heard a woman speak up next, and as he peered around the corner of his hiding spot, he gasped as he recognized all three faces.

The man who claimed to be an investigative reporter was the little pig that he'd thrown through a window earlier that evening, as well as nearly sniffed out in the security control room. The woman was the one who'd screamed her head off after he'd killed the guard, and the other man standing next to her who must have been related to her somehow…

"He tried to stop me," Chris grumbled, "He told me not to contain it. To let the contamination leave this place."

No. He couldn't allow that to happen. How did those other two even get out in the first place? They should have stayed where they were! Now, they, along with the other pig, were going to ruin everything, especially if they saw half the horrible things going on around Mount Massive.

"So far, I've found quite a lot of stuff," the man with the camera answered, "I'll even let you two look at the documents I've collected if you want."

"And I bet I can guess who gave you that tipoff," the man in the jumpsuit quipped in a bitter tone of voice, but before Chris could catch any more of their conversation, he watched as they jumped down a large hole in the floor.

_Aha! _He thought to himself. He knew exactly where the dangerous trio was headed now: the Sewers. Although nobody was aware of it, he knew the whole layout of the asylum like the back of his hand from overhearing conversations between some of the guards when they thought he had been asleep. He'd always been good at remembering details like that, and he'd put it to good use now.

And with that, Chris turned and headed in the opposite direction, choosing to enter the Sewers another way to head them off at the pass. No matter how much they tried, none of them would be making it out of Mount Massive alive. Not if he could help it.

He'd find all those whores.


	6. Hide and Seek

All right! Here we go with the next chapter! I'm sorry for the long gap in updating. Things have gotten pretty busy around here, but I've finally been able to finish this chapter. Thank you again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! :D

**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Hide and Seek**

"Walrider?" Emily asked in confusion as she eyed the strange word painted in blood on the walls in front of them, to their left, and the lockers up ahead, "What's that?"

"Never heard of it," Tyler replied, shaking his head as he sidestepped the rather large pool of blood on the floor next to him. He could see a little bit of it make its way onto his toes, which made him curse whoever had changed him and Emily into these hideous jumpsuits and taken away their shoes. The very thought of traveling through the asylum in his bare feet didn't bring the slightest bit of comfort to him, though he _was _glad to be out of that awful cell now.

Miles, on the other hand, simply held the camera up as he filmed the floors, the walls, and the lockers, making sure to capture everything in the room before taking out his notepad and jotting down his latest thoughts. "_The word 'Walrider' is all over this place,_" he wrote, "_Murkoff was running an experiment here called 'Project Walrider', but the patients talk about the Walrider like it's a physical presence. A spirit or demon. Something they found in the mountain. I'd chalk it up to schizophrenic delusion, but I just saw something. Maybe…maybe it was a glitch in the camera. Or maybe this place is getting to me_."

Miles put away the pen and notepad, trying to steady his hands so that he wouldn't drop his camera. He peered through the screen, making sure that there really _had _been a glitch and that he wasn't already losing his mind. Even having the Wilkins twins for company did little to calm him down, seeing as how he still didn't completely trust them, though it _was _nice not to have to travel through unfamiliar territory alone.

"What do you think, Miles?" he heard Emily speak up from somewhere to his right, "What do you make of this _Walrider_?"

Miles glanced up at her, taking note of the steely expression on her face as she watched him like a hawk, though he didn't back down as he simply returned the look and said, "I've heard it before. From some of the different patients I've run into so far. Maybe now would be a good time for you and Tyler to read through the documents I found." He reached into his coat, pulling out a light blue folder that he'd tucked into a side pocket, and he handed it to the siblings as they immediately opened it and began skimming through the different documents, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open as they scanned the neatly typed words on each page. The only one Miles hadn't included was the original email that the whistleblower had sent him, as he hadn't wanted to carry too many papers around, but that didn't stop him from letting the twins look everything else over all the same.

To Tyler and Emily, reading all these documents was extremely overwhelming, and nothing like what they were expecting at all. There were so many names to remember: Chris Walker, an ex-military police officer who'd developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after touring Afghanistan several times, who'd mutilated his own face due to severe anxiety, and seemed to have a "predominant fixation on a manic exaggeration of military security protocol". _That must be why he's missing his nose, lips, and the first few layers of skin on his face, _Emily thought as she shuddered at the memory of seeing him in the Prison Block, _He must have been talking about his military experience with that whole red on red monologue, too_._ What's this "truer vision" he's referring to, though?_

Then there was William Hope, a younger patient who would be around her and Tyler's age by now, if not a year older. Known simply by his nickname, "Billy", he seemed to progress much further in hormone schedule than Walker had in whatever this Morphogenic Engine was, going so far as to claim he was already in a self-directed lucid dream state. _God, _Tyler thought as he handed Billy's status report to Emily and quickly scanned the next page, _All of this is giving me a headache! Self-directed lucid dream state? The Morphogenic Engine? Project Walrider? What the hell were they trying to do here? _

At the same time, Emily finished skimming the document about Billy as she quickly turned her attention to an email requesting that a patient named Martin Archimbaud be allowed to continue finger painting despite the cancellation of the Patient Art Program. _Father Martin! _She thought as she read about his "assertions of some higher calling" due to an apparent schizoaffective disorder, _I knew he wasn't really a priest! He just thinks he's one because of whatever "higher calling" he's talking about! And that finger painting…no wonder he was able to make those blood crosses so well! There doesn't seem to be anything about those twin Brothers he works with, though. _

"So, what do you two think?" Miles asked after a few minutes had passed and the twins had finished glancing over everything.

Emily shook her head as she glanced up at the words on the wall again, not knowing _what _to think at first. "These experiments," she began, "They were all really going on for the last four years? And _nobody _caught on this whole time?"

"I'm sure someone did," Miles replied, nodding, "But I bet they're 'patients' here now, just like you two. Seems to be standard procedure for anybody who gets too close to exposing them. It's all part of their game."

"Their _sick, twisted _game," Tyler corrected him as they slowly began to move forward, with Tyler facing Emily as he added, "Maybe this is what Mr. Whistleblowing _Waylon Park_ was trying to expose." He clenched his fist as he thought about Waylon once more, his earlier anger resurfacing. He thought that learning about these experiments would change his mind about the mysterious Murkoff employee, but he found that it only made him resent him even more. _He had to have known about this for a long time, _he thought, _Hell, maybe he was even a part of the project, and probably had no problems helping out with those experiments. And now all of a sudden he wants to do the right thing, after so many people have been hurt? Fuck you, Waylon_.

At the same time, Miles gasped as more wheels started to turn in his head. "That name you just mentioned," he said, "Waylon Park…is he the one who sent me that tip, then?"

Emily jumped down to the next floor, steadying herself as she replied, "We're not sure, but we think he might have been. His name was the one we heard over and over again when the guards beat us and threw us in those cells, but other than that, we don't know anything about him." _And we may never know now, _she thought as she sighed, _If being "taken care of" means that Jeremy's men killed him for what he did_.

"Yeah, it was probably him," Tyler added, and Miles took note of the sudden harshness in his tone, which didn't seem to fit his personality from what he'd seen so far.

"Not a fan of his, Tyler?" he couldn't help but ask with a light chuckle in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Not really," Tyler answered as he shook his head, "I'm surprised you're not more pissed off about all this, Emily. Usually, _you're _the one that holds grudges, not me."

As she carefully continued to make her way further down, Emily balked. "_What_?" she cried, "No, I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!" Tyler replied with an impish grin, "Admit it! Like when you wouldn't talk to Mom for a week because she told you that you needed to give Colorado's Meteorology Club a chance!"

"This is different, though," Emily pointed out as she blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the new area they were in, "In the case at Colorado, she never believed me when I told her those people weren't nice. Here, we don't know anything about Waylon Park, so I'd rather find out all the facts first and then decide how I feel about him later."

Tyler also blinked, his mouth dropping open in shock as he regarded his sister. He couldn't believe the civil tone she'd just spoken to him in, and he pinched his arm to make sure that he wasn't just dreaming. "Did you…" he started, "Did you just answer me back _without_ _starting an argument_?"

Miles simply glanced back and forth between the twins, listening to their banter as he quickly checked to make sure his battery hadn't already begun to run out of life.

"I…I guess I did," Emily said in response as she pushed some loose strands of hair out of her face, "Look, we're in a bad enough situation as it is. We shouldn't be fighting with each other at the same time."

Tyler glanced down at his feet, folding his hands as he took a deep breath and replied, "Yeah, you're right. I was thinking about that earlier when we were still in the Prison Block." He then turned to face Miles as he grinned again and patted his shoulder.

"Miles Upshur," he said, "You have no idea what you just got yourself into with us. We're like night and day, me and Emily. Complete opposites. We can never agree on anything!"

Miles shrugged. "So I've noticed," he quipped dryly, "Just keep that 'night and day' stuff to yourselves while we're going through the asylum, though. Okay?"

"Oh, we'll be fine, Miles," Emily assured him with a smile, "We've reached a truce. For now."

_I sure hope so, _Miles thought to himself as he peered through his camera once more and finally stepped into the entrance of the Sewers, _Because I definitely don't have time to play the mediator with all this "Apostle" shit going on. I just hope I can end up trusting these two like I really want to_.

_ But that man they mentioned before…Waylon Park. He must be the one that sent me that email. He has to be. It would match Emily and Tyler's story, too, if that's the case. I don't know whether to thank him or be pissed off at him, though. _

_ I guess like with everything else in this hellhole, I'll just have to wait and find out_.

* * *

_**A few minutes later…**_

_Ugh, _Emily thought as she ducked down and crawled through a round opening in the wall, trying not to dip her toes in the murky water for too long. She didn't even want to _think _about what was in it, and she'd had to pinch her nose the entire time they traveled through these rather large sewers. The last thing she remembered eating was a strawberry Nutra-Grain Bar back in the car, but she still felt like she was about to hurl, and she clutched her stomach to stop herself from vomiting at the disgusting stench around them.

To her dismay, her idle chitchat with Tyler and Miles had died down at this point, and she hugged herself as she felt a shiver go down her spine again. She hated how quiet it was now, except for the sound of their footsteps, and the fact that they only had Miles' night vision to rely on to see where they were going didn't make her feel much better. She just prayed that they would be able to find a way back outside from here.

Out of nowhere, Emily suddenly felt another chill, even colder this time as she gasped and tightened her grip on herself. As Miles picked himself up from the ground, Emily peered through his camera, yelping as she could have sworn she saw something fly across the screen right in front of them. "What's wrong, Emily?" Tyler asked from her right as he straightened up and brushed some sewer water off his jumpsuit.

"Did you guys just see that?" she replied, "I don't know what it was, but I just saw something over there!" She pointed to the right, and Tyler blinked as he narrowed his eyes and focused on the path that his sister was talking about, though he couldn't see anything.

"I did, too," Miles piped up as he cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the fear in his voice, "Just now, through the camera. Like a black cloud or something." _It can't just be a camera glitch, _he thought to himself as his heart began to hammer in his chest, _Emily said she saw it, too. Both of us can't be going crazy at the same time. I hope not, anyway. _

"Me too," Emily said, shaking her head, "And I don't even believe in ghosts or anything like that."

Tyler tilted his head, contemplating what she was saying as he quipped, "What about that one time you thought you saw-"

"That wasn't a ghost, Tyler," Emily interrupted him, her voice remaining civil, but her facial expression going back to its trademark blank state. Miles stared back and forth between the two of them, wondering what Tyler was talking about and why Emily suddenly seemed so closed off now. _Is that that night and day shit they were talking about before? _He asked himself, _It better not be. Not now. _

"Let's just keep moving," Miles suggested, "The sooner we get out of this shithole, the better."

Tyler simply nodded, still watching his sister as she refused to meet his gaze. With everything that had been happening so far, he'd nearly forgotten how frustrating it could be to get Emily to talk about what was on her mind sometimes. He couldn't worry about that right now, though. Not when they had bigger problems to deal with.

So instead, he fell silent as he followed Miles, turning the corner as he peered through the camera to see where he was going. Eventually, they spotted another dim light, and even though it simply led them in a huge circle around the area, Miles still immediately ran for another one of those blue folders he had been finding all over Mount Massive, carefully picking it up as he opened it.

"What's in there, Miles?" Tyler asked as the journalist silently read the contents of the papers.

"Something they think was written by that so-called 'priest'," Miles answered with a slight chuckle, "Sounds pretty close to everything he told me before he stuck a needle in my neck."

"Hold on," Emily piped up, holding a hand up as she gave Miles a long stare again, "You've met Father Martin, too?"

"Of course I have," Miles replied, "He's the reason I'm still even running around this place. Otherwise, I would have been out the front door hours ago. Why?"

The twins traded a glance, the same thought crossing their minds as Tyler recalled what the priest had whispered into his ear before leaving to go do his finger painting. "Ahh," he said with another knowing grin on his face, "I see what's going on here. You're that Apostle Father Martin and those twin Brothers were talking about before, aren't you?"

Now, it was Miles' turn to widen his eyes as his thoughts turned to the title that the priest had foisted on him when they first met. "You know about that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

Of course!" Emily cried as she snapped her fingers, "It all makes sense! We met the three of them while we were still trapped in the prison, and Father Martin 'anointed' us into his little cult by painting blood crosses on our heads. He said he wanted the 'Apostle' to see whatever was happening here, and with you showing up the way you did, you seem to fit the bill. This must be how he wants you to witness everything: by recording it with your camera!"

Miles shook his head, blown away by how quickly the siblings were figuring everything out based on only a little bit of information. _Damn, these two are good, _he thought as he confirmed, "Yeah, that's pretty much how it is. He said it was my 'calling'."

"He also said you're supposed to lead us," Tyler added jokingly, gesturing to the path up ahead that they hadn't taken yet, "So lead the way, Mr. Apostle."

"I would if I knew where the fuck I was supposed to go," Miles chuckled, "Come on, let's go this way."

And with that, he raised the camera again, though he didn't bother with the night vision as there was enough light to allow them to squeeze through a narrow opening one at a time. While they did that, Emily held up Father Martin's paper as she silently skimmed over it as well.

"_This God is real_," it read, "_What we've mistaken so long for ghosts, spirits, madness. We were only willfully ignorant. The scales on Saul's eyes were fear, and when you see beyond it, you truly see. This is the gift of the Walrider. The Gospel of Sand. The greatest sin in the world is willful ignorance of God. To receive a revelation and not spread it to the waiting flock. This place…to stand in the way of salvation is a sin for which there is no punishment too great_."

_God, _Emily thought as she finished squeezing her way through the passage, _This is just insane. I mean, this "Gospel of Sand" writing seems to add up to what that other document said about his delusions, but still. _

"So, this 'Walrider'," she spoke up as she handed the paper back to Miles, "Does Father Martin worship it or something? That's what I'm gathering from that document and everything else we've learned about him so far."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Miles said, nodding at her, "Why, I don't know, but I guess that's what we're going to find out."

"After everything we've seen so far," Tyler spoke up, "I don't think I even _want _to know."

The three of them fell silent shortly after that, making their way over to a ladder with a sign that pointed to the Lower Junction. Unfortunately, it looked like the path was completely flooded, making it impossible for them to get down there without somehow draining the water first. After looking around a little more, they spotted a map right across from them that detailed where two valves that could drain the water were located. "That's it," Miles said as he traced his fingers along both color-coded paths, "That's our ticket out of here."

But just as they took a few steps forward to find the first valve, however, they suddenly heard a familiar grunt, and the ground shook slightly as something jumped down through a hole in the ceiling. Miles, Tyler, and Emily froze where they were, gasping as the man steadied himself, his chains rattling as he took deep breaths and balled his hands into fists.

"Oh, _shit_!" Tyler hissed under his breath as he immediately began to back up, "It's Chris Walker!"

"_Seriously_?" Emily added, shuddering as she had a flashback to Bertrand's death, "What the hell is he doing here? _How did he find us_?"

"No clue," Miles whispered, "Get back." He pushed the twins back through the narrow passageway, and they all hurriedly squeezed their way to the other side as Walker continued to move forward, as if he had already spotted them from the other side of the room. _Shit, _Miles thought to himself as his breathing became more labored, _There's no way he could have found us this easily. He was hunting for me back in the security control room. That's it, then. He must be stalking us. If only there was a way we could shake him for good. _

Miles used his camera to zoom in on Walker, watching as he paused in front of a pile of crates in the middle of the room, looking around in all directions before heading towards a path to his right. As he did that, the journalist turned to the twins and whispered, "Whatever you two do, don't try to fight him. Or any of the other Variants that might be lurking around. Either run or hide. That's what I've been doing so far."

Emily and Tyler both felt chills go down their spines. They never thought they'd eventually escape from their cells, but the idea that they would have to do a lot of hiding and sneaking around just to survive definitely didn't make either of them feel good. "And the Games have just become even more sick and twisted," Tyler commented, "So it's just like an elaborate game of hide and seek, then?"

"In not so many ways," Miles answered, "But it's the only way to make it through this hellhole, so you better do it."

_We'll have to see about that, _Emily thought as she narrowed her eyes, listening for the chains as Walker's footsteps seemed to be getting louder again. "Guys," she whispered, "He's coming back!"

Miles and Tyler peered over her shoulder in time to see Walker returning to the main room, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath as he paused, looked around, and then made his way down the other passageway, the chains and footsteps fading the further he walked. "Let's wait for him to come back," Miles suggested, "After that, we'll sneak around and turn those valves."

The twins nodded, watching as Walker eventually returned, approaching the flooded ladder as the three of them held their breaths, their hearts pounding as he waited where he was for much longer than they would have liked him to. "You're close, aren't you?" he mumbled, "Come out. You don't have to hide from me."

_Umm…yes, we do, _Emily thought, and she sighed with relief as Walker about-faced and headed back over to the first path he had taken. As soon as he was out of sight, Miles, Tyler, and Emily cautiously reentered the area, tiptoeing as quietly as possible. They weren't sure just how good Walker's hearing was, and they didn't want to stick around to find out. Although Emily still missed her favorite boots, she was suddenly grateful not to have them in that moment.

Just as they were about to turn to the right, they froze in place as they heard Walker's chains rattling louder and louder with each step, and without thinking, Tyler continued to run, disappearing into the darkness so that Walker wouldn't see him. "Tyler, _no_!" Emily hissed, but before she could follow him, Miles grabbed her and pulled her back towards the narrow passageway, hurrying back to the other side in the nick of time. _Damn it, Tyler, _Emily thought to herself as she clenched her fists and bit her lower lip in anxiety, _Why did you do that? _She knew her brother could be extremely reckless sometimes, but now wasn't the time for that!

"Let go of me, Miles!" she snarled, trying to get out of his grip, "That's my brother!"

"I know," Miles whispered, "But you need to stay calm. And we can't let Walker find us, either. Tyler will be fine. He'll remember what I said before."

Emily shook her head. "You don't know him," she said, "He's always taking risks with his life. And if he's not careful one day…" She trailed off, not wanting to think about it as her heart continued to beat even faster, her eyes glued to Walker as he entered her line of sight again.

_Whatever you do, Tyler, _she thought, _Please don't get yourself killed. Please! _

* * *

_Fuck, _Tyler thought as he continued to sprint in the darkness, _I wish I had something to help me see, like Miles' camera or a flashlight. _He wasn't even sure why he had continued to run despite hearing Walker's footsteps grow closer, but he supposed it was because he knew they needed to eventually get that water drained. They couldn't simply go back and forth through that wall forever, or else they'd never make any progress.

Tyler suddenly felt his leg bump into something else that was wooden, and when he bent down and stretched out his hands, he found himself patting a horizontal beam that seemed to be blocking his way. Still feeling his way in the darkness, he carefully climbed over it, taking care not to make any noise as he moved one foot at a time, feeling relieved when he made it to the other side. Up ahead, he could see a dim light, which he hurried towards as he finally came across a door that led to a room with one of the valves. _Yes! _He thought triumphantly as he made his way inside, briefly looking around as he took in the shelf in the corner, the lockers to his left, and the pipes in front of him.

Before doing anything else, Tyler glanced at the open door, briefly studying that as well. _Maybe I should close this behind me while I'm in here, _he thought to himself, _Just in case._

And nodding to himself, he gently pushed on the door, closing it as quietly as possible and feeling satisfied when he heard the familiar _click_. Once he was finished with that, he faced the valve again and reached up to turn it, not stopping until he finally heard a flushing sound and the wheel couldn't move anymore. _Okay, so that's one valve down, _he thought, _One more to go._

_Bam! _Tyler jumped as he suddenly heard something bang on the door behind him. "Shit," he cursed under his breath, "Shit, shit, shit!" That couldn't have been Walker already! Could it?

_I've gotta hide! _Tyler thought to himself as he looked around wildly, _The lockers! Hide in one of the lockers! Isn't that what Miles said? Run or hide? Do it, Ty! Now!_

Walker banged on the door for a third time, and without wasting another second, Tyler dove for the first locker he could reach, yanking it open as he quickly climbed inside and pulled it shut behind him. He held his breath as he watched Walker finally kick the door in for good, practically destroying it as he slowly made his way into the room, stopping to sniff around despite not having much of a nose left. Without even realizing it, Tyler began to shake as he covered his mouth, hoping to stifle his breathing so that the other man wouldn't detect him.

Ever so slowly, Walker made his way over to the first locker all the way on the left, and Tyler's pulse quickened as he heard the Variant pull the door open, most likely peering inside to see if anyone was there. _Oh God, _he thought, _He's actually checking the lockers! _

Tyler felt his pulse skyrocket even more when Walker closed the first locker and then proceeded to open the one right next to him, his heavy breathing scaring the younger Wilkins twin at the same time. He'd never been so terrified in his life, not even when he'd participated in his first street race on Interstate 70 when he was seventeen, and he could only imagine that Jason would mock him for this, just like he had after the race. _Please don't check this locker, _he repeated to himself over and over again, _Please don't check this locker…_

Unfortunately, he had no choice but to watch as Walker yanked the last locker door open, revealing that Tyler was in fact hiding in there. Light flooded his eyes as he found himself staring at that horribly mutilated face again, white teeth and white eyes visible as Chris Walker continued to just glare at him.

Before Tyler could gasp in surprise, Walker reached out and grabbed him by the neck, dragging him out of the locker as he lifted him into the air and tightened his grip a little more. Despite Miles' advice not to fight back, Tyler did so anyway as he continued to panic, feeling short of breath as he attempted to pry Walker's hand off his neck. Blood rushed up to his throat, a white haze beginning to cloud his vision as all he could think about was praying that he could somehow escape and not end up like Bertrand.

"Little pig," Walker hissed in contempt as he let go of Tyler and threw him to the ground, causing the younger man to smack the side of his head on the bottom of the pipe, his ear bleeding a little bit as he heard a slight ringing. He gasped for air, coughing and sputtering as he spit up a little bit of blood and tried to ignore the pounding headache that was beginning to form.

"Get up!" Walker screamed at him, and Tyler groaned as he flipped himself over and ended up on his knees, desperately trying to crawl for the exit before the ex-military police officer could do anything else to him. On the way out, he felt Walker reach down and punch him on the right side of his face, knocking him down again so that he could finish him off for good. _No! _Tyler thought as he crawled on his knees again, managing to pitch himself out of the room as he slowly climbed to his feet and staggered back the way he came, tripping over the horizontal beam as he used the light up ahead to guide him.

"Stop!" he heard Walker shout from somewhere behind him, "Get back here!"

Tyler ignored him, emerging into the main area as he suddenly collided head on with somebody, stepping back and he found himself staring at Emily, whose eyes were wide as she gasped and took in the swelling and bleeding on her brother's face.

"Oh, God, Tyler!" she cried, "Are you-"

"No time for that!" Tyler interrupted her, "Come on!" The two of them darted across the room, entering another dark hallway as they spotted another round opening like the one they had traveled through earlier, and in silent agreement, they both ducked and crawled inside, waiting with bated breaths as they heard Walker huffing and puffing while he sprinted over to their side. They were surprised at how agile he was, given his size, though they knew there was no way he'd be able to fit through the space they had decided to fit into. Their hearts nearly stopped as they spotted his boots, and they realized he was standing right outside their hiding spot, looking around and letting his eyes adjust to the darkness in an obvious attempt to find them.

"Where…?" he whispered, and the twins heard him scratch his head as he continued to try and search for them in the dark. In the distance, they all heard the sound of more water being flushed, which made them realize that Miles must have somehow gotten to the other valve undetected. _Thank God, _Tyler thought, _I was just about to ask Emily where he was_.

"_Fuck_!" Walker cursed, punching the wall somewhere above them as he eventually left the area, going around to the other side of the wall until he began approaching the other room that was on the map. _Damn it, _Emily thought, _I hope he doesn't track down Miles somehow! _

All they could do from then on was wait for any sign from the journalist, and Emily faced her brother again as she whispered, "Are you okay? What happened to your face?"

Tyler winced as he raised a hand up to his now swollen cheek and blackened eye. "I'm okay, but Walker found me," he whispered back, "I hid in a locker, like Miles said I should, and he fucking found me anyway! I thought I was a goner when he nearly choked me to death!" He moved his hand down to his neck, massaging the bruises that were beginning to form, shaking as he thought about how close he had come to getting his head ripped off.

"I already know what you're going to say, so don't," he added, "You're going to say that I shouldn't have run off like that, that I could have gotten myself killed, and that I should listen to you next time. Right?"

Emily frowned. Although she _was_ thinking most of those things, the fact that Tyler was still alive and had escaped Walker for the time being overshadowed that. "No, I'm not, actually," she replied in a sharp tone of voice, "I'm just glad he didn't kill you."

Tyler raised an eyebrow in shock, but before he could say anything else, the twins heard footsteps again, causing them to tense up as they wondered whether it was Miles or Walker. _Please let it be Miles, _they both thought to themselves.

Emily took a deep breath, blinked her eyes a few times, and carefully poked her head out of their hiding place, quickly pulling away as she watched Walker pass by, mumbling to himself again as he disappeared into the darkness. A few seconds later, Miles finally appeared as well, tiptoeing until he ducked into the same opening that the twins were currently occupying. "There you guys are," he whispered as he briefly put away his camera, "Are you two okay?"

Tyler gave a weak thumbs up as he attempted to smile, though he felt pain in his face yet again. "Other than getting tossed around like a ragdoll by Walker, I'm okay," he said, "What about you? Did you two decide to turn the other valve while I got the first one?"

Miles nodded. "Yeah, and Emily kept watch," he answered as he crawled past them and poked his head out in the hallway, using the camera's night vision to look around. Right as he did that, he cringed as he took in the state of Tyler's face, remembering how the Variant in the basement had struck him with a baton in a similar way. _Shit, _he thought, _Did he try hiding and Walker found him anyway? If that's the case, then we've got to be even more careful about where we choose to hide._

"I think the coast is clear now," Miles whispered as he didn't hear any signs of Walker in their vicinity, "Let's go before he decides to come back this way."

And without wasting another second, the three of them crawled out of the opening, hurrying towards the newly cleared pathway as they quickly climbed down the ladder in single file, hoping to high heavens that they had finally ditched Chris Walker for good.

How very wrong they would turn out to be.


	7. The Seeds of Doubt

All right! Here we go with the next chapter! Thank you again to everyone who's been following along with this story! I really appreciate it and I'm really excited to keep going and writing the next chapters! :D

******DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: The Seeds of Doubt**

Tyler had only been in one other fist fight in his whole life, and that was the time he'd taken on the captain of his high school's football team in eleventh grade after the latter had decided to randomly try and pick a fight with him during a difficult point in his life. He hadn't been in any sort of trouble before that, as he was normally a very laid back and peaceful person, and he remembered showing up to detention with the swollen face, bruises, and blackened eye to prove that he'd held his own that day. At the time, he thought that was the worst pain he'd ever endured.

Until now.

"Tyler?" Miles called out, glancing over his shoulder as he noticed that the other man had slowed down his pace, "What's the matter?"

Tyler shook his head, avoiding Emily's concerned stare as he replied, "Sorry. I need to rest for a minute." He leaned his hand against the wall, not caring that it was filthy, and closed his eyes, willing the pounding headache to go away. His ear was still bleeding as he continued to hear the same ringing, and he found that he could almost barely hear what Miles had even asked in the first place. Had Walker ended up deafening him in one ear when he threw him against that pipe? He wasn't sure, but he did know that he didn't feel comfortable running around Mount Massive with only one good ear.

"Anybody got Advil?" he teased as he leaned his head against the same wall, trying to do anything that would take his mind off the excruciating pain.

"Sorry, no," Miles answered with a shrug, "If I'd known we were gonna get tossed around like a bunch of rag dolls, I would have added it to my list."

"Now you know for next time," Tyler joked, though his laughter was cut short by another round of pain shooting through his jaw where Walker had punched him.

"I swear, you two are becoming more and more alike by the minute," Emily sighed as she rolled her eyes at their antics, "Maybe we _should _rest for a little bit, though. There's no way Walker's making it down that ladder, and we'll die of exhaustion if we don't take breaks every now and then."

Miles turned his gaze to her, and after taking in how exhausted she looked, he eventually nodded as he put his camera down and took his place on the floor while Tyler did the same. Emily remained standing to keep watch, just in case anyone somehow made it to their safe haven, and she hugged herself, still shaken from their recent encounter with Walker. It only raised the question again of what exactly it was that he was trying to contain, and why the three of them-or anyone else, for that matter-remaining alive seemed to be bad news for him.

"So," she heard Miles speak up, breaking the short silence, "Which one of you is older?"

"She is," Tyler answered immediately, pointing at Emily, "By three minutes. And she never lets me forget it, either."

"That's right," Emily said, nodding firmly as she glanced over her shoulder at him and placed her hands on her hips, "Why do you think I'm always keeping after you? As the big sis, that's kind of part of the job description, whether you like it or not."

Tyler frowned. He'd heard that same sentence several times before, and he was surprised that their parents hadn't gotten that blown up on a poster for him to hang up in his bedroom by now. "I wouldn't mind it so much if you weren't so damn abrasive about it and just _trusted _me every now and then," he said as he recalled the conversation he'd had with his father at the breakfast table two days ago, "I held my own against Walker just now, didn't I?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, and despite the fact that she told herself that she wouldn't say what she had been thinking before, she did so anyway, now that she knew that Tyler was going to be all right. "Yeah, but that was still really dangerous. Look at what he did to you! He could have killed you!"

"I know," her brother sighed, raising a hand to his black eye, "I guess I was just thinking that we needed to get those valves turned. We weren't going to get anywhere by staying put, so I took the risk and it paid off." He could almost imagine what Emily would say next: _Yeah, you're always taking risks, never thinking about anyone else's feelings. _

But she didn't say a word, merely glancing down at the ground as Miles watched the two of them once more, simply listening to them as they revealed more of their nearly polar opposite personalities. He could see the obvious scenario: Emily was clearly considered the "straitlaced, responsible" twin while Tyler was the "wild, rebellious" one. He didn't know which side he agreed with more, but he couldn't help but be reminded of his teen years, and he shook his head as he tried to push the memories out of his mind. That was something he didn't want to think about right now, though unfortunately, the twins' discussion wasn't helping matters.

"So I'm guessing it's just the two of you, then?" Miles asked, "No other siblings?"

"Yep," Emily confirmed, "It's just me and Tyler." She moved forward to take her seat on the opposite side of Miles, gently sliding to the ground as she glanced at the journalist again.

"What about you?" she continued, "Do you have any siblings?"

Miles regarded her, locking eyes with her as he replied, "Two brothers, one older and one younger. You guys remind me a lot of them, with the back and forth with each other."

"Really?" Tyler asked, "Did they ever try to get you to take sides if they were fighting?"

Miles snorted. "Yeah. All the fucking time. I could never do it, though. I loved them both and I couldn't just pick sides like that." He glanced down at the ground, something changing in his facial expression, which made Emily think there was more to the story than he was letting on. She didn't pry, though; they still barely knew each other and she wasn't sure how much time they would have to truly get to know one another.

"All right, I think we've rested enough," Miles declared as he got up and brushed some sewer water off his jeans, "How are you feeling, Tyler?"

Tyler closed his eyes as he gave the journalist another thumbs up. "My face and head still hurt like hell," he said, "But I feel a little better now. Enough to get through some more of this place, anyway."

Miles nodded, reaching for his camera as he held it up in front of him once more. "Good. Let's get out of here."

* * *

Fortunately, there were still no signs of Walker or any other Variants, which allowed Emily to breathe a sigh of relief as she continued to put one foot in front of the other, hoping that there would be some kind of exit soon.

Of course, she'd been thinking that ever since Jeremy had her and Tyler institutionalized in the first place, but it was one of the few things keeping her going at the moment.

Emily shook her head and turned her gaze back to the surprisingly lit hallway in front of them, keeping her ears even more open to compensate for Tyler's possible hearing loss in his right ear. As they eventually found another ladder and began to climb up it in single file, she couldn't stop thinking about what Tyler had said earlier, when they had been talking about why she was always on his case. _Me? Abrasive? _She thought, her mouth nearly dropping open at the idea, _What is he talking about? I'm not like that at all! _

_Am I? _

A few minutes later, the trio finally made it to the next floor, though Emily found that her brother's words _still _ate away at her, replaying themselves over and over in her mind. Almost unintentionally, she found herself reliving the very first time Jason had called her a "cold" person, before he'd switched to the "Ice Queen" nickname, and she remembered how angry it had made her to hear someone say such a thing about her. _I'm NOT a cold person, _she had adamantly told herself every time she thought about it after that, and it was still something she did to this day, refusing to let someone like Jason try and make her think otherwise.

Out of nowhere, a distant humming suddenly broke into her thoughts, and Emily glanced up from the ground as she strained her ears to listen. "Do you guys hear that?" she whispered, and the others stopped in their tracks after she brought it to their attention.

"I think so," Tyler replied, cocking his left ear as he suddenly heard it as well, "Is that someone humming up ahead?"

"Sounds like it," Miles chimed in, his hands starting to shake a little bit as he steadied the camera, "Though it sounds familiar. I wonder if…" He trailed off, silently leading the way as the three of them tiptoed through the hallway, the humming getting louder the closer they got to it. _I've heard that before, _Miles thought to himself, _After Walker threw me through that window and Father Martin found me. But it can't be him. Not all the way down here. _

"Hey," Emily spoke up, pointing at something through a pile of rocks in front of them, "Isn't that Father Martin?"

Sure enough, there was Father Martin on the other side of the rock pile, waving a flashlight in his hands as he glanced around and hummed to himself. _Damn, _Miles thought as he raised the camera and aimed it at the priest, _Is he following us, too? If he is, he better not turn out to be in cahoots with Chris Walker, though somehow, I doubt that he is. _

Not too long after they spotted him, Miles, Tyler, and Emily listened as Father Martin suddenly broke into song, his voice somber as if he was leading a hymn during mass. _Has he actually done something like that before? _Emily thought to herself, _Tried to lead a mass worshipping the Walrider? I wonder what that would be like._

"_Till all the ransomed church of God, be saved to sin no more,_" they heard the priest sing a few times as he stared at something they couldn't see, waving the flashlight in the process.

_Maybe we should let him know that we've done what he suggested, _Tyler thought as he stepped forward and waved his hand in the air, _Even if he does seem a little delusional_.

"Father Martin!" he called out, "Hey, Father Martin!"

Father Martin eventually stopped singing, turning his flashlight towards the trio as he approached the opening in the rocks, removed one, and peered through the hole. "Why, hello, my son!" he greeted, "It's good to see you again. But what has happened to the crosses I put on both your foreheads? Those were meant to give you protection during your time here."

Tyler and Emily traded a glance. They suddenly didn't have the heart to tell the priest that they had wiped away his artwork not too long after he'd left the Prison Block, and Emily moved to stand next to her brother as she lied, "We fell in some puddles of sewer water, and that must have ended up washing them away. We still have the protection, though, right?"

Miles aimed the camera back and forth between Father Martin and the twins, making sure to record everything about this conversation just in case there was something in it that he could use for his story. "Well," Father Martin mused, raising a hand to his chin in thought, "I don't suppose our Lord would be so unforgiving of something like that, so I would like to think that you do. Did you happen to find the Apostle, by any chance?"

"Yep!" Miles called out, stepping into view as he waved his hand, "Right here. Leading the way like I'm supposed to." Although he tried his hardest, he couldn't resist the urge to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, and he nearly laughed again at the ridiculousness of this whole situation. All he had wanted was some footage and information to help his story, not to answer some bullshit "calling" from a so-called "priest".

"Good, good!" Father Martin cried, looking extremely pleased with how everything was turning out so far, "Now that you all are together, you will be able to be the witnesses like He has intended. But you are still only at the beginning. Meet me by the entrance to the Courtyard in the Male Ward. You should be able to get there from here."

Miles nodded, taking out another battery and replacing the one in his camera. "Will the way be paved for us in there, too?" he asked.

"Of course," Father Martin assured him, "I will be making my way over there now, so you will have nothing to worry about as far as that goes."

_Yeah, we'll see about that_, the journalist thought to himself as he stepped back and watched as Father Martin prepared to leave the area, holding his flashlight up again as he pointed it at the trio.

"Oh, one last thing," he added a few seconds later, "Have my disciples been treating you well?"

Emily tilted her head to the side in confusion. "Disciples?" she echoed, "Who are you talking about?"

Right after the question was out of her mouth, though, she suddenly realized who he was referring to. "Oh!" she gasped, "Do you mean those naked Brothers that were with you in the Prison?"

"Yes," Father Martin confirmed, "Have they been treating you well?"

"If by 'well', you mean threatening to kill us and take our body parts after, then yeah, they've been great," Tyler quipped, hugging himself as he shook his head.

Miles perked up at the younger man's words, a chill going down his spine as he remembered the casual way the Brothers had discussed taking his liver and tongue. "They did that to you guys too, huh?" he asked, "I guess I'm not the only one on their dinner menu."

"Uhh…_dinner menu_?" Emily repeated, her voice remaining steady for the most part except for a slight tremor that betrayed how unsettled she was with hearing that. She didn't like hearing _human body parts _and _dinner menu _in the same sentence, and suddenly, she didn't want to know which parts the Brothers were interested in taking from her and Tyler. _So, we have Chris Walker trying to rip our heads off to contain some mysterious contamination, _she thought as she began to shake a little bit, _And now we have the Twins who may or may not want to cannibalize us. This is so not our night._

Father Martin sighed, fiddling with the flashlight as he lamented, "I'm not surprised to hear they have run out of patience. But I'm confident that they will come to their senses once more. In the end, they know how important it is for you to witness everything happening here."

_God, I hope so,_ Tyler thought, simply watching as the priest finished bidding them goodbye, wished them good luck, and then turned to walk away, disappearing down the hallway and leaving the rest of them to their own devices. As soon as he was gone, Miles faced the others and cleared his throat.

"So," he said, "What do you think of _that_?"

Tyler sighed, raising a hand to his still swollen cheek as he massaged it. "He better be telling the truth about having the way paved for us," he quipped, "That's all I have to say."

"You don't think those Brothers are really going to eat us," Emily added, voicing her concerns from before, "Do you, Miles?"

"I hope not," Miles replied, "Though if they do, let's just pray they don't like how we taste." Tyler couldn't help but laugh at that, though Emily didn't say anything in response, merely raising an eyebrow at the journalist as she placed her hands on her hips again. As soon as he noticed that, he merely waved his hand dismissively.

"Oh, I'm just kidding," he insisted, "I'm sure they're not going to catch us."

"They better not," Emily muttered, still keeping her eyebrow raised, "Has anyone ever told you that you have a rather…_interesting_ sense of humor?"

Miles shrugged. "It's how I've been dealing with all the shit going on here so far. And it's actually been working. It makes the situation seem like it's not as bad as it is. You should try it like Tyler does."

Emily glanced over at her brother and then shook her head. Sure, she'd used a little bit of dark humor when she and Tyler had been joking around about their "diagnosis" from Jeremy earlier, but she didn't think doing that the _whole_ time would help her keep her sanity. "No, thanks," she said in a neutral tone, "We should probably keep moving so that we can meet up with Father Martin, though. Who knows _what _else he has in store for us in the Male Ward?"

And with that, she turned away from Miles as she spotted a door right next to them that more than likely led to the next area in the Sewers.

Tyler shot Miles a withering stare before following his sister, and at the same time, the journalist found himself thinking, _Damn. Tough crowd. _

* * *

The next room was eerily quiet as Miles, Tyler, and Emily cautiously made their way inside, hoping for the best and fearing the worst. After what they'd been through so far, they didn't think they could handle anymore surprises.

Tyler was so focused on the persistent ringing in his right ear that he didn't notice that there was another Variant standing right in front of him, and when he glanced up, he yelped as he stepped back, nearly knocking the others over in the process.

"Tyler!" Emily gasped as she steadied herself on the door behind them, "What's the matter?"

"Sorry," Tyler apologized, "I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in this room."

"As long as he doesn't kill us, we should be fine," Miles added, moving forward and pointing his camera at the man, who was currently experiencing muscle spasms as he gave the trio a knowing stare. Unlike some of the others, he didn't appear to be violent or hostile, so maybe not all of the patients in this place were out to get them after all.

"It's all right," the Variant whispered, "You don't have to be scared of me. I can tell we're the same. You three still know what's real. The doctor's dead. You know that, right? Dr. Wernicke. Died before he even started working here."

"Oh, yeah," Tyler spoke up, raising his hand to his chin in thought, "We saw his death certificate and obituary in Miles' folder earlier. Rudolf Wernicke, right? Wasn't he one of those Nazi scientists or something?" _That would somewhat explain that World War Two timeline the man in the Prison Block kept going on and on about, _he thought as he narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah," Miles confirmed as he took out the folder again and opened it to the pages Tyler had mentioned, "He wrote a paper with Alan Turing on mathematics and science. They were scientific partners in the community and must have been working together to develop what would eventually turn into modern day computers and programming."

_That's right! _Tyler thought as he had a flashback to a computer science class he had taken back in high school, _I remember learning that Turing was a pioneer in all that! Not Wernicke, though. I guess his questionable alliances during the war left him out of the textbooks._

"But something doesn't make sense, though," Emily piped up as she thumbed through the documents once again, frowning at the text, "If Dr. Wernicke died back in 2009, then why is he listed as Walker's observing physician for a consultation that took place earlier this year?"

"Exactly!" the Variant exclaimed, pointing at her, "What kind of experiments does a dead doctor perform on living patients? That's the question."

Miles considered what Emily and the Variant were saying, recalling how he, too, thought that was strange when he'd first found the documents. Unless Wernicke was running the whole operation from the afterlife somehow, he didn't see how that was possible, either. It _did_, however, fuel his suspicions towards Murkoff even more, making him wonder again what those bastards were up to this time.

"Look at us!" Tyler cried, suddenly grinning from ear to ear, "Trying to figure all this out and shit! I never thought _we_, out of all people, would end up actually becoming involved with anything to do with this place!"

"Well, I need all this for my story," Miles said in response as he took the folder back from Emily, "And I'm hoping whatever I find here will help expose Murkoff for the assholes that they really are."

"And I just want to know why they had to shoot the two of us with Tasers, have us beaten, and locked up," Emily added with a nod, "And there's no doubt that they did something awful to Waylon for leaking everything in the first place. What's their big secret that they have to resort to hurting innocent people? That's what _I _want to know."

Tyler processed what both of them were saying, and he also nodded in agreement as he replied, "Exactly. It's just a crazy turn of events that we all ended up here."

"Got that right," Miles chuckled, "Come on, let's keep moving."

And after bidding the Variant goodbye, the three of them made their way over to the ladder in the center of the room, quickly climbing down it as they jumped down to the lower level, cringing at the water that was now stained with blood. _Oh God, eww! _Emily thought as she covered her mouth and tried not to throw up, remembering to try and desensitize herself to everything she was seeing, _I've never seen so much blood all at once! What the hell could have happened to cause it all to end up down here? _

To take her mind off the gruesome sight, she glanced up ahead as she spotted two signs: one pointing towards the Male Ward, and the other leading to the Female Ward. _So there is a Female Ward here, _Miles thought to himself at the same time as he zoomed in on the signs, _But that still doesn't answer why I haven't seen any female patients so far. If we end up going to the Female Ward somehow, maybe there will be some women there. _

After remembering how Father Martin had told them to meet him at the exit of the Male Ward, they decided to just follow the sign pointing to the left, ignoring the other path as they continued on their way, slowly creeping through the Sewers as they kept their eyes and ears open as best as they could. Now that they were alone again in the silence, their fear returned with a vengeance, making them all sweat as they slowly picked their way through the darkness, crouching down so that they could fit through more of those openings in the wall. Tyler once again cringed at the blows he had taken from Walker, and as much as he hated having to depend on Emily, he realized he might have to if his hearing didn't improve soon.

Although at the same time, he could have sworn he heard the same _whooshing _noise he'd heard before when the three of them had spotted that strange "black cloud" right in front of them. At first, he waved it off as simply being his ear still aching, but suddenly, he wasn't so sure. _It has to just be that, _he silently repeated to himself until he was one hundred percent convinced.

"You know," Miles said, breaking the silence a little while later as they eventually made their way inside a pitch black, flooded room and jumped down into the water below, "Now that I think about it, I'm not really surprised to hear that Murkoff is behind something extremely suspicious here. It sounds so typical of them to try and get away with something this top secret."

Although Emily and Tyler couldn't see each other in the darkness, they still traded a glance as best as they could anyway. "Really?" Tyler asked in a surprised tone, "I watch the news all the time, and I've never heard anything about them being corrupt or anything like that. They seem pretty damn generous most of the time."

Miles scoffed. "That's what they _want _you to think," he replied, "But I've done some digging of my own, and I know better. If you two knew about some of the crap they've pulled in other parts of the world, you wouldn't be surprised about this, either."

"Like what?" Emily piped up, carefully following Miles as they made their way up the set of stairs in front of them and continued on to the next section.

"I won't get into it right now," Miles answered, "But remind me to tell you later about their scam concerning the supply of drinking water in Accra, Ghana."

"Got it," Emily said, though she felt her head begin to spin from all this new information hitting her at once. Although she wasn't as interested in watching the news as Tyler was, she, too, wondered why they had never heard about any of these apparent "scams" before, especially with something as big as drinking water. _God, _she thought, _Maybe Miles is right and Murkoff is even shadier than we thought. _

_I guess we'll have to wait and find out_._ I'd definitely like to learn more about that Ghana situation, that's for sure. _

Emily was so lost in thought about everything that she had nearly forgotten that the three of them were wandering around in complete darkness with Miles' night vision setting as their only guide. She gulped as she peered over his shoulder, glancing at the path up ahead as she prayed that they wouldn't run into anybody down here. They were practically up to their waists in the water and she knew that that was going to make any sort of running extremely difficult. _Please don't let anybody be down here, _she silently pleaded as she bit her lower lip, _That's the LAST thing we need right now!_

Unfortunately, her prayers weren't answered as she, Tyler, and Miles suddenly caught a familiar sound that they had hoped to never hear again: the rattling of chains that had haunted them at so many other points earlier in the evening. But it couldn't be him. Not all the way down here.

"Is that…?" Tyler whispered as he stopped in his tracks, his heart hammering as he cocked his left ear.

"God, I hope not," Miles replied in a low voice, moving slightly to the right as he kept the camera focused on a few pillars in front of them. What he saw there made him groan under his breath, making him begin to hyperventilate slightly as none other than Chris Walker entered his line of sight, effectively blocking their way of escape as he remained by a group of pillars not too far away from them.

_Damn it! _Emily cursed to herself as she watched him begin to patrol the area back and forth like he had before, _This guy again? How the hell are we supposed to get past him now? _

_There's no place to hide! _

* * *

_**Meanwhile, back in Denver…**_

"Hannah?"

Hannah glanced up from the television as she heard her husband call her name from the hallway, and she rubbed some sleep out of her eyes as she took her glasses off.

"Ray!" she gasped, "I didn't know you were still up. I thought you would have gone back to bed by now."

"I can't sleep," Raymond replied as he poked his head further into the room, "I could say the same thing for you, too, though. What are you watching?"

Hannah smiled sadly as she gestured for Raymond to sit next to her, and he wrapped his arm around her waist as Jane curled up by their feet, her ears perked up as she listened to her masters' conversation. "Oh, just the video we took with the kids and my parents in Disney World," Hannah explained, "Remember that trip?"

Raymond smiled as his eyes lit up in recognition. "That's right!" he cried, "We surprised them on Christmas with the news that we were taking them on vacation there and then we ended up going that following February!"

"And we almost didn't make it out of the airport because of all the snow," Hannah recalled with a chuckle, "Weren't we the last plane to leave before they shut everything down for the night?"

Raymond nodded. "We were. I know Ty and Em were very happy about that." He sighed as he turned back to the television, and Hannah reached for the remote, pressing the Play Button as they watched the first day they visited the park. Eight years old at the time, Tyler and Emily had been very excited about everything, with Emily being thrilled to take a picture with Cinderella and Snow White while Tyler received an autograph from Captain Hook. Hannah remembered how the twins' grandfather, Seamus, had bought them both autograph books so that they could get each Disney character to sign them, and she felt tears well up in her eyes as he appeared on the screen, squeezing into a car with Tyler and Emily on Dumbo: The Flying Elephant as they laughed, smiled, and waved at the camera each time they passed by the others.

The more she and Raymond watched the video, the more she found herself missing the days when their kids weren't constantly at each other's throats. She knew they would have preferred to take separate cars to drive to Durango now, but now that they were stuck together, she hoped that they could somehow get things back to the way they were, where Tyler wasn't as wild and reckless and Emily wasn't as uptight. It wasn't that Hannah didn't like that they had different personalities-quite the opposite, actually-but she figured they could be different without having to criticize each other for it.

As if he had been reading her mind, Raymond suddenly moved his hand from her waist to her shoulder as he asked, "Do you think Ty and Em are okay out in Lake County?"

Hannah closed her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder as she replied, "I hope so. I don't like knowing that they're going to be stuck in the mountains for a long time without any cell phone service. Plus, they said they were going to call us once they were able to get in touch with Roadside Dispatch, but we still haven't heard from them yet. Why is that?"

Raymond felt his stomach turn, an awful feeling suddenly taking over as he said, "Maybe we should call them. There has to be a number to the asylum on their website, and maybe someone can patch us through to them."

Hannah felt her blood run cold as she tried not to allow herself to immediately jump to the conclusion that something was wrong. But just like her husband, she, too, began to have that same, nagging suspicion. Whenever Tyler or Emily promised they would call their parents, they usually did it. It wasn't like them at all to remain silent like this for a long time.

"All right," Hannah decided, reaching for her cell phone that she had placed next to her, "You look up the number, and in the meantime, I'll call my mother and see if maybe she's heard from them."

"Good idea," Raymond agreed, and he got up from the couch as he headed over to the desktop in his office, powering it up as he tried to keep himself calm. _There's nothing to worry about, Ray, _he told himself over and over again, _Ty and Em are fine. Once you find the number, you'll be able to reach them with no problem_, _and I'm sure they'll have a good reason for not calling us back_.

He hoped.

As he continued to make his way to the internet, Raymond glanced over at the list of important numbers that he always kept on his desk, spotting the one for Roadside Dispatch that he'd given to his children when they first bought them their cars. He temporarily put it out of his mind, though, as he finally found Mount Massive Asylum's website and their main number, picked up the cordless phone next to him, and made the call.

A few seconds later, though, his stomach sank as he suddenly heard the dreaded tri-tone that could only indicate one thing. "_We're sorry,_" an automated female voice recording began, "_You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again._"

_Huh? _Raymond thought as he frowned and hung up the phone, _Disconnected? That can't be right. This is the number to the main line! I punched in everything correctly!_

But when he tried redialing the number a few seconds later, he received the same recording, which made him slam the phone down in frustration as he clenched his fists and had to take some deep breaths. "All right, don't panic, Ray," he muttered out loud, "I'm sure it's nothing. Nothing at all."

For some reason, he found himself glancing at the Roadside Dispatch number again, and although it was a crazy idea, he wondered if maybe he could call them instead to find out what was happening.

And that was what he decided to do, picking up the phone again as he dialed the 800-number he had written down. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard ringing on the other end, and a minute later, he managed to reach someone who could help him.

"_Roadside Dispatch_," the man greeted, "_How may I help you?_"

"Hi, good evening," Raymond replied, "I'm not sure if you're allowed to do this or not, but I was just calling to check on the status of my son and daughter's vehicle that broke down in the Lake County area and whether or not a truck was sent out to them."

"_What's the name, license plate number, and make of the car?_"

"Tyler and Emily Wilkins, a 2013 Lexus ES 350, and the license plate number is 405-LDV," Raymond explained, listening as he heard typing in the background on the other end, "They broke down south of Leadville on Route 24 and are currently waiting at Mount Massive Asylum."

"_All right, give me one second,_" the man said, "_And I'll run it through the system_."

Raymond clutched the phone even tighter, waiting with bated breath for some good news so that he could tell Hannah. He knew she was just as worried about this as he was, and he knew she definitely wouldn't like the fact that the asylum's number had been disconnected somehow.

"_I'm sorry, sir,_" the man on the other end apologized a few minutes later, "_But the records show that we never received a call from anybody with that name or license plate number._"

_Thud_. Raymond's heart nearly stopped, and he froze where he was as he did his best to keep his composure on the phone. "You…you didn't?" he asked, "But there must be some kind of mistake! They said they were going to call for a truck right after they hung up with us! They had to have called you! Around 7:30 this evening!"

"_Hmm…_" the man hummed as the sound of typing reached Raymond's ears again, "_I don't see anything here indicating that we got a call from them around that time, so I don't think they ever dialed our number._"

Raymond felt his heart begin to pound in his chest, but he forced himself to calm down as he said, "Thank you very much for your help." After that, he hung up the phone, slowly picking himself up from his chair as he powered down his computer. _This can't be happening, _he thought, _There's nothing going on that we should worry about. Nothing at all. Everything's just fine.__ Maybe there was a blackout there or something and that's why we can't reach them._

Then why didn't he believe his own words?

By the time he returned to the living room, Raymond noticed the stony expression on his wife's face as Jane attempted to lick her hand in order to cheer her up, and he realized he already knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth. "Your mother hasn't heard from them, either," he stated, "Has she?"

Hannah finally turned to gaze at him, shaking her head as he moved to sit down next to her once more. "Not since they first told her what was happening," she whispered, "Did you find the number to the asylum? Were you able to get through to them?"

Raymond sighed sadly. "No. It was disconnected for some strange reason. And I tried Roadside Dispatch right after that, and it turns out Ty and Em never even called them."

"_What_?" Hannah gasped, her mouth dropping open in shock, "But how is that possible? They called us _and _their grandmother just fine! They wouldn't have waited such a long time to contact Roadside Dispatch!"

Although neither of them wanted to believe it, they were now sure that this wasn't just a case of their kids mistakenly forgetting to return their call. No. Something was very wrong with this situation, and though they didn't know what exactly it was, they knew they couldn't just sit here idly without making sure that Tyler and Emily were all right and not in some sort of trouble.

"We'll have to call the police," Hannah whispered, "Maybe they can somehow send somebody out there to check up on them."

Raymond nodded, wrapping his arm around Hannah once again as he silently comforted her, reaching for the living room phone at the same time as he called 911, hoping that they could get to the bottom of Tyler and Emily's mysterious silence.

At the same time, Hannah glanced over at a framed photograph of the twins and their dates at their high school prom, picking it up as she ran her finger across the glass. Her hands shook in the process, and she closed her eyes as she pictured both her kids in her mind, holding the photo close to her as she prayed for them to be safe.

_Ty, _she thought, _Em…I don't know what's happening to you, but if you're in any kind of trouble, stay strong and fight back whenever you can. Look out for each other, and get yourselves out. We love you. _

_ And we need you to come home. _


	8. Rush

All right! Here's the next chapter of "The Asylum Games"! Thank you again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! :D

**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Rush**

"There's no fucking way he could have found us that easily again," Miles hissed under his breath as he continued to point his camera at Walker, "How did he even get down here? He couldn't have possibly fit through the space that we climbed down before."

Emily didn't have an answer for that, merely holding her breath as she watched the ex-soldier begin to move, sloshing through the water as he breathed heavily. She was already scared of him before breaking out of her cell, but she was even more terrified now, especially after the way he'd beaten her brother. Whatever that Morphogenic Engine had done to him had obviously made him bigger and stronger, as if it had gotten rid of everything else in his body and made him all muscle. _Shit, _she thought as she peered through the camera and watched him make his way over to a pile of crates in the middle of the room, _There's really nowhere to hide. Are we supposed to just sneak around him, then? _

It seemed like that was the only choice they had, but at least they appeared to have one advantage over Walker: the darkness. _At least we have the night vision, _Emily thought to herself as she attempted to calm down, _He can only use his regular eyes. And if we're quiet enough, he won't be able to detect us with his hearing, either. _

And that was the thought she continued to operate on, silently creeping behind Miles and sticking close to him as Tyler did the same, none of them willing to run ahead in order to escape this time. After nearly getting killed on the upper levels, Tyler reflected on the fact that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to just charge into a situation after all, and he definitely didn't want Walker to catch him again. He would never tell Emily any of that, though, so he simply kept his thoughts to himself as he tried not to focus on the pain that had returned to his jaw.

"One to bleed," they heard Walker mumble somewhere to their right, and Miles did his best to steady his breathing as he continued to move forward, leading the way as he pointed his camera in all different directions. The further they walked, however, the more his battery began to run out, the camera beeping as the red bar in the top right corner of the screen flashed on and off. _No, no, no, _Miles thought, _Don't die on me now. I've only got two more of these shitty batteries left! I can't afford to replace them again! _

Even so, he watched as the night vision continued to grow dimmer to the point where he had no choice but to stop and switch out the battery. As he did that, Tyler and Emily did their best to listen out for Walker, his footsteps getting louder as he seemed to grow closer to where they were standing. Without even realizing it, they both had begun to shake again, thinking of Bertrand once more and how terrified he must have been in those last seconds of his life.

Once it seemed like the coast was clear, the trio continued to slowly creep forward, doing their best to remain as quiet as possible as they ducked behind pillars and stopped in their tracks if it seemed like Walker was getting too close to their location. Listening for the rattling of his chains seemed to help, and once it sounded like they were growing more and more distant, Miles began to move again, the twins following him as they finally arrived at a dimly lit set of stairs. _Almost there, _Miles thought as he tiptoed his way to the next level, relishing the feel of the ramp underneath his feet after sloshing around in the water for so long, _Just a little further, and-_

"Come back!" they all suddenly heard Walker shout from somewhere behind them, making them jump as they weren't expecting to hear him so close that quickly. _Shit! _Tyler cursed to himself, _He should still be by those crates we saw earlier! How the hell did he make it over here so fast?_

"Run!" Miles shouted, and without wasting another second, the three of them broke into a run, hurrying towards a rickety-looking ladder a few feet away. None of them dared to turn around as they heard Walker huffing and puffing again, and Miles hastily put the camera away as he reached for the ladder, climbing up as quickly as possible as Tyler did the same.

Once Tyler was about halfway up, Emily reached forward to grab the closest metal rung to her, but she gasped as she suddenly felt a hand grab her by her ponytail, yanking her backwards as she screamed in surprise. "_Emily!_" Tyler and Miles cried, with Tyler jumping back down as he ran back to try and pull his sister out of Walker's grasp, but to no avail.

Emily began to struggle in the larger man's grip as he pulled her further into the darkness. In the ensuing struggle, she felt him yank on her makeshift hair tier, freeing her hair from its ponytail as he wrapped his other hand around her neck as if he was preparing to twist it like he had with Bertrand. At that, Emily panicked even more, attempting to elbow him in his side as she flailed her legs and hoped to somehow kick him. "Let go of me!" she cried, "_Stop it!_"

"Hush!" Walker snapped, moving his hand that had been gripping Emily's hair to cover her mouth instead, "Don't you hear it?"

Emily didn't hear a thing, except for Miles and Tyler calling to her and trying to help her get away from Walker, so she didn't know what he was talking about. To be honest, she almost didn't even _want _to know what he was talking about at this point.

"You can't let it leave!" Walker continued to hiss with his slight lisp, "Can't let it reach the local town!"

Without even a second thought, Emily sank her teeth into Walker's hand, causing him to growl as he let go of her, giving her a chance to sprint back over to the ladder, where the others were waiting for her. "Come on!" Tyler cried, grabbing her wrist as they quickly climbed up the ladder in order to meet Miles, who was waiting for them in order to help them to safety.

"Go, go, go!" Emily shouted, urging Tyler to climb faster as he finally made it to the top, Miles pulling him up as he reached for Emily next.

"Come on, you're almost there!" the journalist cried, "Keep climbing!"

But just as Emily placed her foot on the next rung, she felt the ladder begin to shake as it creaked loudly, and when she glanced down at the level below her, she gasped as she spotted Walker trying to make his way up as well, all in an attempt to grab her and pull her back down to his level. _Holy shit! _She thought as she felt the ladder shudder again, as if it was about to snap right off its hinges, _He's going to bring the whole thing crashing down if I don't move! _

And with that, she practically sprinted up the ladder, reaching for Miles' hand just as the ladder broke off from the wall. "AHH!" she cried as she heard a loud _clang_, followed by an intense burning sensation on her left thigh, and she bit her lower lip as tears of pain welled up in her eyes. Somewhere below her, both the ladder and Walker crashed into the sewer water, causing a large splash as she felt some of it wet her feet. She didn't care about that, though, as she hoisted herself up to the floor above her with Miles and Tyler's help, rolling on her back as she collapsed and breathed a sigh of relief. _That was way too close, _she thought as she kept her eyes shut, trying not to focus on the pulsing in her thigh.

"Shit," Miles cursed, "Are you okay, Emily?"

Emily opened her eyes, meeting both the journalist and her brother's gazes as she forced herself to sit up. "I'm fine," she insisted, "I think that ladder's going to leave a bruise on my thigh, though. It hit me pretty hard on the way down." She winced again as she clutched the injured spot, where she could already feel swelling starting to take place.

"Maybe you should rest again," Tyler suggested, "I think you need it after that close call."

Emily shook her head vehemently. "No," she declined, "I'm okay, you guys. Really. Don't worry about me." She rested her hand against the wall behind her as she pushed herself to her feet, cringing again at the sudden burst of pain in her thigh. She took a step forward, only to find herself limping slightly as she tried not to aggravate the injury.

"But you can barely walk right now," Miles piped up, "And you were the one who said we should rest every now and then. Are you sure you'll be able to run if we end up getting chased by anyone else?"

"I'll be fine, Miles," Emily assured him breezily with a smile, "You really don't have to worry about me this time. It's just a little swelling and some bruising, that's all."

Now Miles was the one to shake his head, unable to comprehend why Emily couldn't just admit that she was in a lot of pain right now. It was so obvious to both him and Tyler, and it was almost as if she was trying to hide how she was really feeling underneath a mask or something. "But-"

"Don't bother, Miles," Tyler whispered in his ear once Emily had moved a little further ahead, "I know my sister, and she'll never let anyone know if she's in pain or needs any kind of help. It's like she thinks she has to go through everything alone. I gave up on trying to convince her otherwise a _long _time ago." He was still surprised that she had actually accepted his help with trying to get the prison cell keys before, but it seemed that she hadn't completely changed her ways despite that.

Miles glanced back and forth between the twins, shaking his head again as Tyler's words resonated with him. He had no idea why Emily might have felt like she needed to handle everything stressful by herself, or if something had happened to her to make her start thinking that, but he did know that it eerily reminded him of some aspects of his current life, ever since he'd published an article about the situation in Afghanistan back in June of 2012. _No, Miles, _he scolded himself, _You can't think about that right now. You still don't know either of the twins that well, and I doubt there will be anymore time to sit around a bonfire getting to know each other. _

And with that, the three of them continued on their way, passing through an open gate as they suddenly found themselves in another long, well-lit hallway. As they took a few steps forward, they suddenly heard someone shout at them from somewhere up ahead, and they gasped as another one of the asylum's patients barreled towards them out of nowhere, waving a baton in the air as he continued to run.

"Get back!" he shouted, swinging his weapon at the group and striking Miles on his left shoulder before he turned and fled the scene, leaving the journalist to put his camera away as he clutched himself.

"Shit," Tyler cursed, "Are you okay?"

Like Emily, Miles felt the same burning where the Variant had struck him, and he knew that that spot was also probably going to end up bruising later on. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to use his left arm for too many other things, just in case his shoulder ended up becoming swollen. "Yeah," he assured the twins in what he hoped was his usual calm, light-hearted tone of voice, "I'd rather this than getting thrown through a window by Walker again."

"He did that to you?" Emily asked as she widened her eyes.

Miles turned to face her as he answered, "Yep. When I first got here. I'm still picking glass out of myself from that."

Emily sighed, her fear of Chris Walker returning as she thought about all of their encounters with him so far. _My God, _she thought, _It's like he's indestructible or something. I just hope this time that he's stuck in the sewers for good and doesn't find a way to get up here. _

_If he does that, I think I'll just die. _

* * *

They'd gotten away again.

The "Three Little Pigs", as Chris had now come to see them, had actually managed to escape…_again_. What was he supposed to do now? Unlike the first time he'd followed them out of the Prison Block, he didn't know where they were going this time, and it seemed like he might have lost them for good.

That thought scared him more than anything else.

Chris picked himself up, though he was soaked from the waist downwards, and he glanced down at the piece of fabric he'd ripped out of that woman's hair. More anger coursed through him as he remembered how she'd bitten his hand to try and get away from him, and how he'd ended up breaking the ladder while trying to grab her so that he could put her out of her misery. He didn't care who he caught first, as long as he could eventually stop all three of them from leaving Mount Massive.

Suddenly, Chris heard the same static noise that he'd heard since being forced into that god-awful Engine, and screaming in anger, he grabbed the broken ladder and tossed it into the water, listening to the loud _splash_ as he took some deep breaths. In that moment, several images raced through his mind: the death and destruction he'd witnessed in Afghanistan, the almost obsessive compulsive way he'd patrolled the camp sites during his night shift, and finally, the incident at the welcome home party that his family had thrown for him that had ended up landing him here in the first place. It was all too much to handle, and the voices in his head taunting him about his failure to catch the other three so far were threatening to push him over the edge even more.

The static was getting louder every second, and Chris couldn't understand how the woman or either of the others still didn't hear it. Or at least not yet, anyway. If they stayed alive and spent anymore time in this place…they'd soon become just as insane as the rest of the Variants those bastards in Murkoff had stuck in the Engine, which would only give _it _more of a chance to leave.

And that was where he came in. He would make their pain stop. He just wanted to help them, whether they wanted him to or not.

Doing his best to put the noise out of his mind, Chris glanced over at the spot where he'd thrown the ladder, and wondered if he could repair it enough to hoist himself up to see if there were any signs indicating where the other three might have gone. Or maybe he could stack some of those crates he'd spotted earlier. It was worth a shot, and if neither of those things worked, he could always go back the way he came and hope that he'd find some sort of clue to their whereabouts.

And with that, he snatched the ladder up from the spot by the stairs, using the light from up above to guide him to it as he carried it over to its broken hinges. "Filth," he mumbled as he placed it back where it originally was, thinking of how all three of those little pigs refused to heed his words, "You had your chance." The fact that they hadn't taken it was all the more reason for him to kill them quickly and collect their heads, just like he had for all those other patients and guards he'd gotten his hands on.

Once he realized the ladder was basically unfixable at this point, Chris tossed it back into the water as he turned and walked back the way he came, making his way over to the piles of crates from before. Grabbing a few at a time, he returned to the staircase, balancing them carefully so that they wouldn't break under his weight, and once he was high up enough, he peered over the rim of the well-like structure as he spotted a sign pointing towards the Male Ward.

That was it. That had to be where the trio had gone next. Just like how he had gotten into the Sewers before, he knew another way around to the Male Ward as well, and nodding in satisfaction, he carefully jumped down from the crates so that he could pick his way through the darkness once more. It was a long path to get there, but it was one he was willing to take, and he hoped he'd be able to intercept them for a second time as he muttered one last thing under his breath.

"I'll find you again…"

* * *

"All right," Emily piped up after they'd finished climbing another set of stairs, "So we're in the Male Ward now. How are we supposed to get downstairs to meet Father Martin by the Courtyard? It doesn't seem like there's a convenient way from here."

Tyler and Miles briefly looked around until Miles spotted light coming from the floor right in front of them. "Looks like there's something behind here," he said, "But we'll have to move this metal storage unit first."

Emily crouched down on the floor to peer through the passageway as Miles and Tyler pushed the unit to the side, and once they were finished doing that, they all crawled through to the other side, trying not to throw up at the trail of blood that greeted them. Up ahead, another Variant in a straitjacket and blindfold was simply sitting in a chair, and although it didn't seem like he wanted to bring harm to them, they still cautiously tiptoed around him anyway. Miles held up his camera again as he switched the night vision back on, leading them into another dark hallway as he found a battery on the floor and picked it up, pocketing it before turning to the right and heading towards an open door.

_Bam! _All three of them stopped in their tracks as they suddenly heard somebody bang on the door on the opposite side, although the storage unit in front of it was partially blocking the way, so maybe whoever was there wouldn't be able to break through. _I hope, _Tyler thought as he gulped, doing his best to listen as the noise died down.

"Shit," he cursed, "I don't think we have a choice but to go that way, you guys. Are we ready to run, just in case?"

"I hope so," Miles answered as he glanced over his shoulder at Emily, "How's your leg?"

Emily clutched the swollen area, which was starting to feel a little better than it had before, though it still hurt and gave her a slight limp. "Not too bad, thanks," she said, "I won't let it stop me from running if I have to."

"If you say so," Miles mumbled as he moved to push the next unit out of the way, hoping that whoever was on the other side of the door was gone. Once he was finished with that task, he cautiously pulled the door open, peering down both ends of the hallway in time to see that the coast was clear. He wasn't sure if that was necessarily a good thing, though, and he didn't want to stick around to find out.

After Miles, Tyler, and Emily moved to their right and noticed all the doors at the end of the hallway were locked, they turned and walked back the way they had come, spotting another passageway on the floor as they ducked and crawled through. The whole time they did this, Emily regarded Miles, reflecting on the different times so far that he had tried to help her, such as with the whole sense of humor conversation and insisting that she try to relax her injured leg. He had sounded genuinely concerned, which was something she wasn't used to anymore ever since she started college. She couldn't help but remember the day she found out her supposed "best friend" was no such thing, and how she'd decided from then on that she didn't need or want anymore friends. She would rather handle everything by herself than go through all that again.

Once the three of them finally made it into the next room, they all stopped and gasped at the sight around them. They were in what looked like a hospital room, with blood trails all over the floor, filthy curtains pulled around the beds, and body parts scattered all over the place. "Oh my God," Emily whispered under her breath as her mouth dropped open in shock, the moans and whimpers of some of the patients behind the curtains reaching her ears. Some of them sounded like they were truly in pain, and she couldn't help but listen as some of them repeated the same phrases over and over again.

"Too alive," one of them muttered, "Too alive. Too alive."

"_Too alive_?" Tyler echoed, tilting his head to the side, "What the hell does _that _mean?"

"No fucking clue," Miles replied, carefully approaching another blood-stained curtain as another voice spoke up from behind it.

"Can't sleep," the man croaked, "Wernicke's waiting for me there."

"Well, there's that name _Wernicke _again," Miles said, "I wish I knew what he was trying to do here. Whatever that Morphogenic Engine is supposed to be, it doesn't seem like it was helping anybody at all. Just making things worse."

"I know," Emily agreed, shaking her head sadly, "It's terrible how Murkoff just left all these people here like this, though, and treated them so cruelly before that. How come nobody exposed any of this sooner?"

"Now you see why I'm not Waylon's biggest fan," Tyler told her, moving away from them as he approached another table on the opposite side, nearly throwing up at the bloody mess on the bed next to him. _Oh God, _he thought as he covered his mouth, _This is fucking sick!_

It could hardly be called a body anymore, for nearly everything had been pulled apart as if someone had been dissecting this patient. Whether or not that happened while he was alive, Tyler didn't know, and didn't _want _to find out, either. He glanced at the document on the table in front of him, and in an attempt to settle his stomach, he focused completely on that as he snatched it up and opened it so that he could read it.

"Tyler?" Emily called out, "What's that you've got in your hands?"

Tyler turned around, his hands shaking as he replied, "Just another one of those documents. Here, we can read it at the same time." He held it out, and Miles and Emily crowded around him as they took in the words that had been neatly typed out:

_PATIENT STATUS REPORT _

_by Rick Trager_

_This patient also, unfortunately, didn't make it. I tried my best, but I'm just a doctor, not a miracle worker. And I'm pretty new to this whole "doctor" thing, so I'm still working out the kinks. _

_Anyhoo- somebody's gotta cut the fat from this PROJECT WALRIDER disaster. We've been bleeding money ever since this thing went tits up on account of that Billy kid. But I've managed to slim back personnel by more than eighty people. Which means short term savings in salary and long term savings in pension and health care costs. _

_AND I've been figuring out a lot about biology. I was on the fence about it before, but now I can say with absolute certainty that a person can't live without his kidneys. You learn something new every day. _

Miles took the paper from Tyler, rereading it as the younger Wilkins twin frowned and raised his hand to his chin. _Rick, _he thought, _Something sounds familiar about that name. But from where? _

"I don't know about you guys," Miles piped up, breaking the silence, "But I don't think I'd trust this 'doctor' to give me a check up."

"Not if he's still apparently 'working out the kinks'," Emily said, shuddering, "Imagine if our parents ran their practices like that, Tyler. They'd get hit with so many malpractice lawsuits and even be out of their jobs!"

"Your parents are both doctors?" Miles asked, taking in this new bit of information about the twins.

"Yep," Tyler confirmed, nodding, "Our dad's a dermatologist and our mom's a gynecologist."

_Damn. No wonder they were able to afford that nice Lexus, _Miles thought to himself, shaking his head as he considered his own parents, who he definitely didn't think were in the same league as Mr. and Mrs. Wilkins.

"What about your parents?" Emily asked as if she had read the journalist's mind, "What do they do?"

"I'll tell you later," Miles promised, "Once we finally meet up with Father Martin. I think we should focus on getting out of here first."

Emily shrugged. "Okay. But I'm holding you to that. And the Ghana situation you mentioned earlier, too."

The three of them fell silent, with Miles eventually spotting an open, bloody vent above their heads, and although they really didn't want to climb up and crawl through there, they did so anyway, knowing that that was the only way they could go at this point. While they did that, Tyler thought back to the document they had just found, and the fact that this Trager fellow seemed to be trying to "improve his skills" as a doctor. _It's pretty obvious this guy didn't go to any kind of medical school before all this, _he thought, _That "Patient Report" didn't look official like Billy's and Walker's did, either. And did he actually take someone's perfectly functioning kidneys out just to be able to determine that we can't live without them? I know he basically said that in his report, but I still really hope not. _

_I just want to know where the hell I've heard his first name, though. _

_Rick. _

* * *

After briefly wondering when this vent would end, Miles eventually dropped down into the next room, followed by the twins as Emily took a second to steady herself, ignoring the sharp pain in her thigh in the process. _Just grin and bear it, Em, _she told herself as she tried not to cringe, _If Tyler can basically shrug off his injuries, then so can you. And nobody will have to worry about you. _

She was just about to open her mouth to say something to the others when a muffled scream suddenly appeared from out of nowhere, making her jump as she glanced up at a patient who had been tied to a chair and left in the same room they were in. He continued to scream as he rocked the chair back and forth, doing his best to free himself just as somebody else banged on the locked door on the other side of the room, startling Miles and Tyler as Emily screamed as well. "_Shit!_" Tyler cursed, "What do we do now?"

"Wants meat!" the men on the other side of the door chanted over again as they continued their work, "Wants meat! _Wants meat!_" They rammed into the door again, and after briefly looking around, Miles spotted another metal storage unit blocking a door to their left.

"This way!" he cried, "Come on!" He hurried over to the crate, he and Emily working together to frantically push it to the side as quickly as possible while Tyler kept watch, sweat blooming on his forehead as his heart rate picked up yet again.

"_Fuck! Fuck!_" one of the Variants yelled as he slammed his elbow into the door, causing a few pieces of wood to splinter and clatter to the floor. _Come on, guys, _Tyler thought anxiously as he glanced at the others out of the corner of his eye, _Hurry up!_

"Hey!" another man in the group yelled, "Isn't that the girl we saw earlier? In the prison?"

_Oh, no! _Emily thought, briefly freezing where she was as she and Miles continued pushing the storage unit aside, her heart racing as well as she had a flashback to when she had first woken up in the Prison Block, _Please don't tell me those are the same creeps from before! How the hell did they make it all the way here? I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I'd rather face Walker than these guys again! _

"Who else could it be, dumbass?" the first patient snapped impatiently as he forcefully pushed against the door, causing more of it to splinter, "She's the only one around here! I told her we'd pick up where we left off!"

"So let's fuck her and get the meat from the others!" the second man replied, "Problem solved!"

"_Shit!_" Miles hissed as he and Emily finally finished pushing the unit aside at the same time the Variants broke through the door, "_Go_!"

The three of them sprinted through the door, Tyler slamming it shut behind him as they ran as fast as they could through the next room, with Emily doing her best not to put too much pressure on her thigh. "Go around!" they heard the men yell, "We'll flank those pieces of shit!"

"This is the experiment!" one of them added, "_This is the experiment!_" One of them swung a baton at the glass, causing it to shatter as they barely missed the group by a few inches. _Shit! _Tyler thought as he ducked his head, crouching closer to Emily as they barreled through the next door and frantically closed it behind them.

"Block the door!" Miles cried, and the twins immediately got to work, pushing the metal storage unit in front of it just as the Variants' voices got even louder.

"You can't hide!" they shouted, along with a few other sentences they couldn't hear as they focused on the task at hand. Something about death and taxes?

It didn't matter, though. All they could think about was praying that they wouldn't get caught. And if they did, Tyler had his fists ready to knock them out like he had wanted to in the Prison.

"There's gotta be another way!" the patients growled as soon as Tyler and Emily had finished pushing the unit in front of the door, and they hurried to the next one, all three of them throwing their energy into moving it as quickly as possible. In that moment, it occurred to Emily that this was the first time in a long time that she and her brother were actively working together without arguing, and not for the first time, it surprised her how willing they were to put their differences aside when the time called for it.

"There's another door! This way!" the Variants called out, pulling Emily out of her thoughts as she, Tyler and Miles finished pushing the crate to the side and threw the door open, sprinting down the next hallway as they heard their pursuers break through, chasing them as they leaped over a bed that someone had left right in their path. Once again, Miles thanked God for joining track and field, though he wasn't sure he could say the same for the Wilkins twins.

"AHH!" Emily gasped as she felt that sharp pain in her thigh again once she'd vaulted herself over the bed, and she found herself stumbling into the next room as she slammed the door shut this time. _Damn it, _she thought as she stopped to clutch her leg while Miles and Tyler frantically blocked the door, _Maybe I should have rested while I still had the chance. Otherwise, I wouldn't feel like I'm THIS close to getting caught. Why do you have to be so stubborn sometimes, Em? _

"Are you guys okay?" Miles asked, flinching as the Variants began attempting to break down this door as well.

"Yeah," Tyler assured him, too scared to answer in his usual laid back manner, "Are you?"

"I'm fine," the journalist replied, "Emily?"

Emily nodded as she proceeded to pull herself together, trying not to think about the ladder that had injured her in the first place. "Yeah," she echoed, "Just a little twinge in my leg again, but I'll be okay."

_Bam!_ This time, Tyler gasped as the man banged on the door for the last time before realizing there was no way they were going to be able to get through to their prey. "Come on!" Miles shouted, pointing at an open passageway above their heads, "This way!"

The twins quickly followed him, pulling themselves up as they crawled through to the other side, dropping down into the next hallway just as they heard the others punch their way through yet another locked door. "Walrider!" they cried, "_Walrider!_"

None of them stuck around to find out why the Variants were shouting the mysterious Walrider's name. Instead, they turned to the right, pitching themselves over a desk and through a broken window, around the corner, and over another bed, the twins nearly tripping over each other as they found themselves staring at a large gap in front of them, a ledge opening up to another path on the other side.

"_Seriously_?" Emily groaned as her adrenaline rush briefly wore off to remind her of the bruise on her thigh, "We're not going to be able to make it across!"

"Yes, we are!" Miles shouted, "Jump!"

Emily couldn't help it; she let out a scream as she took a running start and threw herself across the abyss, stretching her hands out and hoping to high heavens that she had timed her jump correctly. To her left, she could see Tyler and Miles both scrambling to keep their balance after Miles caught Tyler with his free hand and helped him hold on to the ledge, and to her relief, she also felt wood underneath her fingers as she struggled to keep her grip tight, feeling her feet scrape against the concrete in the process.

"_You slippery little whores!_" an angry voice snapped from somewhere behind them, and all three of them glanced over their shoulders in time to see their pursuers glaring at them before disappearing down another passageway. _Thank God, _Miles thought as he pulled himself up first and then turned around to help Tyler and Emily, _Maybe that's the last we'll see of those assholes. _

"Is everybody okay?" Miles asked again once the twins were safely up to his level.

"Yeah," Emily said, brushing some dirt off her jumpsuit, "Let's not do that again, though."

"Tell me about it," Tyler piped up in a rare moment of agreement with his sister, "I love a good adrenaline rush, but I think that's enough excitement for now."

Taking a deep breath, Miles reached for his camera-which he was surprised he hadn't lost yet in all the chaos-and he flipped the screen open as he turned on the night vision. "You guys wouldn't like going anywhere else with me, then," he said, "Where I've been getting most of my stories. Never a dull moment for sure. Granted, none of that is _quite _like this, but still."

"Where do you usually go?" Tyler asked, raising his eyebrows as he took in the journalist's words.

"All over the world," Miles explained, "Places nobody else would dare to go. _Somebody's _got to tell their stories, so why not me?" He shrugged, simply taking in the twins' facial expressions as he pointed his camera at them and stared at them through the night vision.

"Anyway, we should probably keep moving. God only knows that Father Martin is probably already by the Courtyard wondering what happened to us."

* * *

_**A few minutes later…**_

"_Are you fucking kidding me?_" Tyler spat, jumping back a little as somebody suddenly banged on the door just up ahead.

"There's another door!" they heard the familiar voices of the Variants that were chasing them shout, "This way!"

"I thought we lost them for good!" Emily cried, her heart beating rapidly again as she immediately backed away and turned towards the hallway to their right.

"Apparently not!" Miles replied, "Come on, let's go this way!"

Tyler and Emily quickly followed him as they sprinted through the next semi-lit hallway, with Miles not bothering to raise his camera as he led the way. "_You can't hide!_" the Variants taunted after finally kicking the door down for good, but the others ignored them as they approached a high wall and a desk propped up against it. Miles pulled himself up first, followed by the twins as they did their best not to hurt themselves on the way down, not used to doing anything remotely resembling parkour. Emily felt that same twinge again, but forced herself to ignore it as she followed the others, ignoring more shouting from the Variants as they entered another dark hallway.

"Hey, look!" Tyler cried, pointing up ahead, "There's light coming from that room to the left! Maybe we have to go that way!"

Miles wasted no time in leading the others into said room, with Emily slamming the door behind them just as they heard the clicking of an intercom, startling them in the process.

"_Who's down there?_" an unfamiliar male voice asked, "_You're not one of them, are you? Quick, get in the dumbwaiter if you want to live!_"

Miles, Tyler, and Emily had to gasp at that. Somebody else was here? In the Male Ward? They hadn't expected to find any other survivors like themselves, so this was certainly a welcome surprise. This man was one of the few other than Father Martin who didn't sound like he wanted to kill, eat, or rape them, and he _was _trying to help them, so maybe it was good that he was here. There was only one problem, though…

"So who's going to get in that dumbwaiter first?" Miles wondered after the man from above had sent it down, "We're not all going to be able to fit in there. It's way too small."

"Ladies first?" Tyler suggested, turning to Emily, who shook her head.

"No, _you _go first," she insisted, "As the big sis-"

_Bam! _They all jumped yet again at the sound of their pursuers trying to bash through this door as well, and Tyler sprinted over to it and put his back against it, hoping to hold it as long as he could. "Go!" he cried, "While I'm holding the door!"

Apparently, their savior seemed to be getting slightly impatient as well. "_Come on, get in!_" he cried, "_I've seen what they're capable of!_"

Tyler winced at the splintering sensation in his back, and he glanced out of the corner of his eye in horror as he watched pieces of the door start to fall to the floor. Upon seeing this, Emily turned to face Miles and said, "Why don't you go ahead, Miles? And we'll find another way around and meet you guys."

"Are you sure?" Miles asked.

Emily nodded. "We'll be fine. Just go!"

_Bam! _At the sound of more of the door coming undone, Miles about-faced and darted towards the dumbwaiter as the twins spotted two doors with metal handles on them, reaching for them and pulling them shut behind them in the nick of time. Outside, Miles was in the process of climbing inside as the Variants did their best to catch him.

"He's getting away!" they shouted, "_God damn it_!"

"Where are those other two?" one of them added a few seconds later, "They had to have come this way, too! If we can't get him, we'll get them instead!"

Their voices faded as the dumbwaiter continued to rise, and Miles breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be heading to safety for a change, though he was worried about Tyler and Emily. How were they going to find their way up here without getting caught? Would this mysterious man be willing to help more than one person? _I'll just ask him if he can extend this generous offer, _he decided to himself as he settled back in his seat.

Eventually, the dumbwaiter made it to its destination, the gate opening just as a shocking turn of events greeted Miles as he spotted the man who must have sent the dumbwaiter down in the first place. "You made the right choice here, buddy," he remarked before reaching out and punching Miles across the face a few times, knocking him to the floor and rendering him unable to move or speak.

_What the fuck? _Miles thought frantically as he felt pain begin to radiate from his jaw to other parts of his face not unlike when Walker had tried to kill Tyler. His vision blurred on and off, but he still had enough of it to get a good look at the man who had just attacked him despite helping him a few seconds ago.

He looked to be in his mid to late forties, with a bald spot on his head that led to shoulder-length gray hair, brown eyes, and a filthy pair of glasses. Some sort of monocle appeared to cover the lens over his left eye, and he wore a surgeon's mask over his mouth, as well as what looked like a patient's drip on his left arm. His skin was horribly deformed not unlike most of the other Variants around the asylum, and he was so skinny that Miles could practically see his rib cage, wondering how the hell he was even still alive. He also didn't appear to be wearing anything except for an apron around his waist, and he was barefoot as well.

"Hey," the man said, tilting his head to the side as he stepped closer to Miles, "You're that…little shit _priest's _guy, aren't ya?" He then proceeded to kneel down until he was at the journalist's level, and Miles winced at the sharp pain in his jaw again.

"His _witness_…or whatever?" the man continued, waving his hand nonchalantly, "You must be exhausted. Let's take a break, huh, buddy? The old two martini lunch? Have a little confab?" He mumbled something else under his breath as he suddenly reached down and picked Miles up by his arms, the latter's heart racing again as he found himself being dragged over to a wheelchair not too far from him. He still couldn't really talk, otherwise he'd ask this man why he had practically knocked him out so violently, and suddenly, he wasn't feeling as good about this guy's intentions anymore.

"Heavier than you look," the man commented as he sat Miles down in the wheelchair, "A little cardio wouldn't kill ya."

Miles had to chuckle to himself at that. He, Tyler, and Emily had been getting _plenty _of cardio since they'd been here. He didn't think they needed anymore. Nevertheless, he watched as the man strapped his arms and legs to the chair rather tightly, which made him feel another twinge of anxiety at this new situation.

"Okay, here we go," his "savior" announced in a chipper tone of voice after he'd finished buckling Miles' right ankle in the restraint, "Arms and legs inside the car at all times."

_He sounds friendly, _Miles thought to himself as the man began to slowly wheel him out of the room and through some more unfamiliar hallways, _A little TOO friendly, I think. I never thought there could be such a thing as that, but that's this guy to a T. I wonder if this might be that doctor we read about in the document Tyler found. Rick Trager, I think his name was? Where is he taking me? _

The creaking of the wheelchair was starting to get to him, he realized as they continued to travel, and to take his mind off of it, he turned his thoughts to the Wilkins twins, wondering again what was going on with them, seeing as how they were still stuck with those Variants a floor below. As long as they eventually found their way to him somehow, then it wouldn't be an issue.

Eventually, to Miles' surprise, they made it to the exit leading to the Courtyard, which was exactly where Father Martin said for them to meet him! But the priest was nowhere to be found, which made the journalist wonder what was taking him so long to get here. Had he been caught and killed by Chris Walker or anybody else? Or was he tied up in a completely different way?

"You know," the man behind him spoke up as he stopped pushing the wheelchair, "I _love _the mountain air up here at night. You want to head out, take a stroll? Go ahead, I'll wait here."

Miles tugged on his restraints, but they were bound so tight that he figured this guy had to be joking. There was no way he'd be able to get up from the chair and leave. _He's just trying to mess with me, _he thought to himself, _Isn't he? _

"Go on," the doctor insisted, gesturing to the door as he leaned in close to Miles' face and chuckled, "Run _free_! I'm in no hurry." Miles couldn't help but glare at him in response, and although he considered himself to have an "interesting" sense of humor-as Emily had put it-he wasn't at all amused by this.

"No? All right. Nose to the grindstone. I like that. Okay, then, right this way."

And with that, Miles felt him back the wheelchair up towards an elevator that was right behind them, the Courtyard growing more and more distant the further they went. Once they entered the old-fashioned elevator, Miles found himself thinking one more thing as the gate closed in front of him.

_Wherever Tyler and Emily are, I hope they're having better luck than I am right now._


	9. The Trager Approach-Part One

Okay, here we go with the next chapter! Thank you again to everyone who's been reading, reviewing, favoriting, and alerting this story! Writing this chapter was a little challenging in some places, so hopefully it turned out okay! :)

**DISCLAIMER: **Only my OCs, plot ideas, and slight changes from the original game are mine. Everything else belongs to Red Barrels. The idea for the main game/_Whistleblower _timeline that I'll be following in this story belongs to the user "DontWatchMePlay" on Youtube.

**WARNING: **This chapter contains some graphic content and descriptions of blood.

* * *

**Chapter Nine: The Trager Approach-Part One**

_Please tell me those creeps are gone, _Emily thought to herself as she remained in her hiding spot, unwilling to move until she knew it was safe. She could just imagine the awful things that they'd try to do to her if they caught her, and she shook her head as she attempted to banish the thoughts from her mind. Just because they hadn't been able to satisfy their needs since they'd been committed in the asylum did _not _mean that they could force her to do anything she didn't want to do.

Emily pressed her ear to the door, trying to listen for the nonsensical rambling from the Variants, and when she didn't hear anything, she cautiously pushed the door open, tiptoeing back out into the room as she quickly looked around for any sign of their pursuers. So far, things seemed to look good, and when she glanced to her left, she noticed that the dumbwaiter was gone, so Miles must have gotten to safety. _Thank God, _she thought, relief washing over her, _At least one of us is safe now. Who was the nice man who sent the dumbwaiter down, though? And how will Tyler and I get up there? _

"Are they gone?"

Emily whirled around as Tyler peered through the crack in his door after he'd carefully opened it. "I think so," she whispered, "I don't hear them anymore, but we've reached a dead end. Think we can get whoever that mysterious man was to send the dumbwaiter back down for us?"

"You told Miles that we'd just find another way around," Tyler reminded her as he fully stepped out of his hiding spot, thankful that this time, Miles' advice had actually worked in his favor.

"Right," Emily said, "Right! I guess we should see where we can go now." She made her way over to the closed gate, prying it open as she peered up the shaft and noticed that the dumbwaiter was sitting at the top. After finding the button to call it on their level, she pressed it a few times…only to find that it was locked for some strange reason.

"Do you see anything?" Tyler asked as he watched his sister continue to investigate the shaft.

"Not really," Emily reported, "I don't hear any voices up there, so maybe Miles and that man moved some place a little safer. The dumbwaiter doesn't seem to be working anymore, either, which is pretty strange, if you ask me."

"_Damn_," Tyler hissed, snapping his fingers, "Come on. Let's see if there's any other paths we can find, before those assholes come back looking for us."

Emily nodded, and together, the two of them exited the room, glancing in both directions as they eyed the path they had taken earlier, and the one that led to a closed gate with a little bit of light. They turned to the left, carefully navigating their way through the darkness as Miles' absence was suddenly felt much more strongly, the twins missing both him and his camera's night vision as they tried not to bump into anything that might be in their way. Traveling through these halls just wasn't the same without him and his snarky comments about nearly everything they'd encountered so far, even if his sense of humor still rubbed Emily the wrong way.

"Hey, Emily?" Tyler spoke up a few minutes later, breaking the silence as they wended their way through another semi-lit hallway after going through the gate, "Can I ask you something?"

Emily flipped her hair over her shoulder as she glanced at her brother. "Sure," she said, "What's up?"

Tyler took a deep breath, wondering how to phrase his question without starting an argument, knowing his sister might not like what he was about to ask. "Is it just me, or do you not like Miles Upshur?"

Emily's mouth dropped open, a confused expression settling on her face as she replied, "What are you talking about? Where did you get that idea?"

Tyler shrugged. "Well…it just seems like you don't like him all that much. You've been acting like your usual Ice Queen self around him, like with your leg and that whole sense of humor conversation. I just want to know why you always do that, that's all. He was only trying to help you." Despite whispering to Miles that he'd given up on his sister as far as that was concerned, part of him was still curious all the same.

Emily sighed, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger as she took in Tyler's words, feeling that familiar wave of irritation whenever somebody called her the "Ice Queen". Although there were more important things she knew they needed to worry about, she couldn't help but wonder if Miles saw her the same way her brother and everyone else did: cold, aloof, and unfriendly. "I know," she assured Tyler, "I don't dislike him, though. I mean, we still barely know him, but I don't hate him or anything like that."

"So…what's the problem, then?"

Emily rested her hand on the wall as they began to climb a set of stairs, only pausing once to listen for the Variants, and breathing sighs of relief when they still didn't hear anything. "I don't know how to really explain it," she said, "It's like…like this _wall _goes up every time somebody offers any kind of help or something. It's been that way for years now, so it's like an automatic reflex for me. Ever since Jessica screwed me over…" She trailed off, realizing that that was the first time in a long time that she'd spoken her ex-best friend's name, and she closed her mouth again as she stopped herself from saying anything else. She hadn't told her parents about the incident that had caused her to permanently cut ties with Jessica Mercer, and even though she and her brother had been much more civil to each other so far during their time at the asylum, their feud still hadn't been resolved, and she still wasn't ready to confide in him when there was still that lingering awkwardness.

"Jessica?" Tyler echoed, "Was she a friend of yours at college? You never mentioned anything about her to me. Mom and Dad, maybe, but not me. I thought…" Now _he _was the one to trail off, and Emily couldn't help but smile a little bit, as if she was reading his mind like an open book.

"I know," she said, chuckling ruefully as her smile grew even wider, "You probably thought I was always a lone wolf at the university. You can go ahead and say it." Tyler looked away, feeling his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment, wondering if he was always that transparent with his thoughts. He thought back to how Miles had figured out that he was angry with Waylon, as well as the fight that he'd gotten into in high school, and wondered-not for the first time-if wearing his heart on his sleeve was always such a good thing.

_As opposed to Emily, who keeps everything bottled up, _He thought, shaking his head,_ That's like the other end of the spectrum, which doesn't seem all that great, either. What's a guy like me to do? I've been freely expressing my emotions for my whole life, but I don't want everyone knowing exactly what I'm thinking all the time, too! _

He sighed. Although he knew he was _never _going to act like Emily, maybe that small part of her "Ice Queen" act held some merit after all. Almost nobody knew what exactly was going on in her mind unless she wanted them to know, which was something that he thought might come in handy during their time here.

"Yeah, I guess I always figured you weren't exactly Chatty Cathy while you were at school," he admitted, "It's not like we've really had time to sit down and fill each other in on our lives. But I think you should give Miles a chance. He seems like a decent guy so far, and we're all in this together."

Emily considered what he was saying, once again recalling all the concern the journalist had shown for both of them during their run through Mount Massive despite not trusting them that much in the beginning. She also thought about how there were a lot more things she wanted to know about him, and all the questions she wanted to ask him to balance out everything he had been asking her and her brother so far. It was with that thought in mind that she eventually nodded, leading the way through the next hallway at the same time.

"All right," she said, "Maybe I will. On one condition, though."

"What's that?" Tyler asked.

Emily frowned. "That you stop calling me Ice Queen all the time. I'm not emotionless, like your friends would have you think. I just keep to myself, that's all."

Tyler raised an eyebrow. _Yeah…and you shut everyone out in the process_, he thought to himself. _"_All right," he eventually echoed in response, "If you don't want me to call you the Ice Queen, then I won't. Fair trade."

* * *

_**A few minutes later…**_

Eventually, the twins made their way towards another set of stairs as they quickly climbed up to the next floor, still keeping their ears open for any signs of the Variants. The ringing returned in Tyler's right ear, making him wince as it suddenly became unbearable now, and he hoped he could hold out for just a little bit longer until he and his sister reunited with Miles once more. Speaking of Miles, where _were _he and the other man, anyway? Shouldn't they have been around here somewhere? Or were he and Emily totally lost?

Now that they had fallen silent again, they could hear every little noise around them as they wandered down yet another pitch black hallway: from the howling wind blowing outside the thin walls, to the creaking of the floor below their feet, and finally, the distant moaning and crying of other patients. Emily felt herself grow tense, as if she was waiting for something or someone to jump out from behind a corner and scare them. To her, it was just way too quiet _not_ to have something happen to them by now. Maybe if some higher power-like Father Martin's Walrider-really _was _watching over them, they'd have a stroke of good fortune and reunite with Miles.

_Or we'll be the unluckiest twins in the world and run into Walker again or something, _Emily thought, shaking her head as she reached out to pat the wall next to her…only to feel her hand make contact with something entirely different.

"YAH!" a voice to her left suddenly shrieked, and before she could react, she felt something strike her on her upper arm, causing her to yelp as she leaped back and knocked into Tyler, sending them both crashing to the ground as loud footsteps pounded all around them.

"Jesus," Tyler hissed, "What the _fuck _was that?"

Emily opened her mouth to respond, but cried out again when she felt the same object collide with her arm, the injured spot pulsing just like her leg had. Reaching out with her other hand, she managed to grab on to the end of the weapon, feeling around a little bit as she realized it was a broken pipe, but before she could do anything else, their attacker suddenly switched a flashlight on, nearly blinding them both as it shined in their direction. _God damn it! _Emily thought, quickly averting her eyes as she felt her pupils shrink, suddenly not used to the bright light after having adjusted to the dim lighting and darkness of the rest of the asylum.

"What the…" a very familiar voice spluttered in shock, "_Tyler? Emily?_"

The twins snapped to attention, immediately recognizing that voice despite the fact that they'd been completely out of sorts the first time they heard it. No matter what sort of condition they were in, they would never forget the arrogance in its tone, as well as the awful words that had been exchanged before their imprisonment.

"_Jeremy!_" Emily cried, feeling her blood begin to boil and bile rise up to her throat as she tried-and failed-to rein in her anger towards Jeremy Blaire for everything he had done so far. She couldn't help but have a flashback to the smug smirk he'd worn on his face as he'd branded them both pathological liars and had them beaten until they were unconscious-all over something that they were not even involved with.

"What are you two _doing _here?" Jeremy replied, gripping the flashlight even tighter, "How the fuck did you get out?"

At that question, something in Emily suddenly snapped as she moved forward and roughly shoved the executive back a few feet, to her brother's surprise. "How did we _get out_?" she echoed harshly, "_Why the hell did you lock us up here in the first place_? We had _nothing _to do with any of this and you _know _it!"

At first, Jeremy felt a flicker of fear. The siblings had been so weak and pathetic before, after they'd gotten the Taser treatment and the same "light anesthetic" as Waylon. Now, however, all of that had worn off, and he didn't even want to imagine how long they'd been sitting in those cells, their anger towards him building up the entire time. He'd seen how violent Chris Walker had become if he was in the cramped room used for solitary confinement for too long, and he could only imagine the same thing would happen to the twins.

Right after Emily had shoved him, though, Jeremy felt his anxiety disappear once again, striking back with the piece of pipe as he replied, "Were you both that stupid that you really thought we would let you leave and risk you telling the whole world about what goes on around here? Over my dead body."

"Your mistake, _Blaire_!" Tyler snapped, "If you bastards hadn't thrown us in here, we never would have discovered _any_ of this! Now we know _every…fucking…thing_! And when we get out of here-"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, for Jeremy suddenly rushed forward, pushing him against the wall in the dim light as he held the pipe to his throat and pressed down. "You seem to have a bit of a hearing problem, don't you, Tyler?" he responded in his traditional smug tone of voice, "_No one _can know about those experiments. Not your parents. Not your grandmother. _No one_. Unless you _want _them to 'accidentally' end up in a ditch somewhere, of course. I can always have that arranged."

"_You asshole!_" Emily shouted, and at the same time she shoved Jeremy again, Tyler reached up and pushed the pipe off his throat, gasping for air and ducking out of the way as the executive swung his weapon at him again. The whole time, neither of the twins could believe what they were hearing. It was bad enough that they had been dragged into this whole fiasco without getting their family involved as well, and they knew that if anything ever happened to their parents because of them, they would never forgive themselves.

Once they'd managed to break away from Jeremy for good, they hurried down the hallway towards the light, hoping to put enough space between themselves and the executive long enough to get away from him. While he retained his arrogance from before, he definitely seemed a little more unhinged after hours of presumably running around the asylum and eventually hiding out here, and the twins did not want to be around if he really ended up losing his cool. At the same time, they still couldn't believe how little he was concerned for the well being of Mount Massive's patients, and how he was only preoccupied with making sure that nobody found out the truth about what was going on around here. Though Tyler and Emily still didn't know the full story, they were determined more than ever to uncover it, just like Miles was.

Out of nowhere, they suddenly bumped into someone else, and when they stepped back, Emily let out a scream as she saw another familiar face they recognized, and someone who had obviously been accompanying Jeremy while he hid out in this section of the asylum. "_No!_" she cried as Sorenson pointed his Taser at her and pulled the trigger, hitting her in the same side he'd damaged before, causing her to collapse again as she cursed both him and his boss in her mind. _Not again! _She thought, her anger building up again as she heard Tyler crash to the ground as well. _Why _couldn't they seem to avoid getting shot like this? There were two of them and one of Sorenson! They should have been able to take down both him _and _Jeremy with no problem, but it always seemed like those two had the drop on them.

"_Stop fucking doing that!_" Tyler snapped, though he could barely move as he remained where he was, sorely wishing that Jeremy and his men would finally get the comeuppance they deserved.

"Shut up," Sorenson growled, glaring at the twins before turning to Jeremy, "I've got 'em, Mr. Blaire. What do we do with them now? Do we kill them? It's your call." _Ever the obedient dog, I see, _Emily couldn't help but think to herself, _Do all of Jeremy's men just blindly follow him like this without any personalities or minds__ of their own? _

At first, Jeremy considered just finishing off the twins himself, until he remembered where exactly he was: the Male Ward. At first, he had forgotten why he decided to hide here after meeting up with Sorenson and fleeing the Prison Block, but his original reason suddenly came back to him the more he thought about it. A sly grin crossed his face as he headed towards the end of the hallway, peering to his left in time to see a filthy gurney with wheels on the bottom.

"Sorenson?" he replied, pointing to it, "Get me another one of those. There's somebody I'd like these two to meet…"

* * *

Miles had never been a fan of elevators, even when he was a child, and the ones at Mount Massive Asylum only reinforced that fear.

He felt sweat bloom on his forehead and the sensation like he was going to vomit as the old-fashioned elevator slowly made its way two floors up, creaking and shuddering the whole time. With the way it was moving, Miles could just picture the cables above them snapping and sending them plunging to their deaths at the bottom of the shaft. _With all the money Murkoff's made through their scams, they could have at least put some of it towards upgrading these elevators_, he thought as the gate in front of him opened, the doctor gripping the handles on the wheelchair as he continued to push him forward.

One of the first things Miles noticed as they moved away from the elevator was the long trail of blood on the floor, wheel marks catching his eyes even through the dim lighting of the area. Had this doctor-Trager-moved other people around in the same way? Was that something he did to add an extra touch to his whole "doctor" act? Miles didn't want to know, as his good feelings towards him had evaporated shortly after he'd been strapped in the wheelchair. A sickening sensation was starting to take over for some reason, and since Trager was so preoccupied with getting to his destination, Miles attempted to wiggle out of his restraints once more, but to no avail.

"Kill me," a raspy voice suddenly whispered, breaking Miles out of his thoughts as he glanced up and spotted a man lying on a bed up ahead, in the darkness. _One of Trager's "patients"? _He asked himself as he wished he could film everything he was seeing right now.

As Trager turned to the left, Miles spotted another man strapped to a bed, writhing in agony as his muffled screams reached Miles' ears, his mouth hanging open the whole time. Something about it looked…_off_, however, and when the journalist craned his neck to take a closer look, he nearly threw up when he realized the Variant was _missing his tongue_! _Oh, God, _he thought, quickly looking away to try and contain his stomach, the decaying metallic smell of the blood all around him suddenly hitting his nose the wrong way.

"Shh, shh!" Trager hissed as he hastily wheeled Miles away from the bed, "You weren't putting that tongue to any use, anyway." He continued on his way into the next room, making a right turn just as Miles glanced over his shoulder at him, which made him chuckle nonchalantly.

"Truth be told, I was just tired of licking my own stamps."

Miles didn't say anything in response, his jaw still hurting from when Trager had punched him before. Plus, he didn't know _what _to say to that, his bad feelings increasing tenfold. _Did this so-called "doctor" cut out that man's tongue? _He thought to himself, a wave of dread coursing through him, _Just like he took out that other guy's kidneys? I've changed my mind about hoping Tyler and Emily would find their way here. I hope they don't. _

_But then they won't know if something ends up happening to me-God forbid. I can't think about that right now, though. I just need to figure out what the fuck Trager's got planned for me. And I don't think it's any kind of welcoming party. _

"Here we are, then," Trager announced, pulling Miles out of his thoughts as they finally reached a pitch black room, the strong smell of dried blood returning with a vengeance. Whatever was supposed to happen in here, the journalist hoped that it would be over quickly. He was now starting to crave that mountain air Trager had previously gushed over, for that would definitely be better than this stench.

"Thanks so much for coming by," Trager spoke up in that too-friendly tone once again, "We'll begin your consultation in a moment." Right after he said that, he flipped a switch in a corner of the room, nearly blinding Miles as the fluorescent lights flared to life, brighter than the rest of the sections of the asylum he and the twins had traveled in. Out of instinct, he wanted to throw his hand up to cover his eyes, only to remember that he was still strapped rather tightly to the chair.

"I'll just need a second to wash up, and…" Trager trailed off as his gaze suddenly fell on Miles' camera, which was currently closed on his lap after running away from that group of Variants before.

"Oh!" he gasped, snatching it up as he flipped the screen open and peered through it, "Home movies! And it'll give us a chance to talk."

"Give…give that back!" Miles croaked through his swollen jaw, but Trager paid him no mind as he set the camera on the sink and then proceeded to wash his hands in the bloody water right in front of him. Miles thought back to when he'd first met Tyler and Emily, and how he was worried that they might end up killing him and stealing his camera as well. While he still had very slight misgivings about them, at least they seemed to be more trustworthy than Trager at this point, and he would much rather be in their company than his. He didn't like where any of this was going, or the fact that the doctor had his own camera pointed at him now and presumably still recording. So far, _he'd _been the one doing all the filming, not the other way around.

And it was with all those thoughts in mind that he attempted to wiggle out of the straps again, clenching his fists as he rocked back and forth, only succeeding in burning his wrists. _I've got to get out of here, _he thought as he began repeating the same phrases to himself like a mantra, _Get out of the chair, get my camera, and go find Tyler and Emily. Get out of the chair, get my camera, and go find Tyler and Emily…_

"You know," Trager spoke up, breaking Miles' concentration as he glanced up to meet the older man's suddenly serious gaze, "I'm a bit worried about how much time you've been spending with Father Martin. I know…" He trailed off again, making his way over to a cart with all sorts of medical instruments sprawled across the surface, and Miles fought the urge to vomit again as he spotted the blood covering them and realized none of them had been cleaned in a while.

"I hope you haven't been letting him confuse you with all his…holier than thou _bible thumping_," Trager continued, contempt for the priest lacing his voice as he forcefully emphasized those last few words, which made Miles wonder if the doctor also thought Father Martin might have his own motives for doing everything he was doing here.

"No offense to the man," the doctor added a few seconds later as he grabbed one of the bone saws and sauntered back over to Miles, "But I sometimes worry that he might just be a little bit…_crazy_." He held the saw up to Miles' neck as he said this, with the journalist flinching as he felt the cool metal touch his skin. His heart zoomed up to his throat as he suddenly mentally pictured Trager making the cut, and he allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when the other man lowered the saw and returned to the cart.

"It's understandable," he rambled without once asking for Miles' opinion on any of this, "People get scared, they're as like to turn to God as anything else. God died with the gold standard. We're on to more concrete faiths now." He picked up a cleaver this time, with Miles' heart beginning to race again as the doctor moved to stand in front of him once more, holding the weapon up as he lifted the journalist's right hand, examining his fingers.

"You have to rob Paul to pay Peter. There's no other way. Murder in its simplest form, but what happens when all the money is gone?"

Miles licked his chapped lips, his breathing becoming more labored as his nerves took over. He couldn't help but watch as Trager continued to take a little _too _much interest in his fingers, tilting his head to the side a few times as he ran his thumb along certain spots, specifically where the digits bent and flexed. _Why the hell does he keep looking at my fingers like that? _He thought, though he didn't dare say that out loud.

"Well, money becomes a matter of faith," Trager said, answering his own question as he put the cleaver back on the cart, "And that's what I'm here for." He now reached for a large pair of bone shears that had been left in one of the urinals on the wall, making a cold sweat break out on Miles' forehead as he felt yet another wave of nausea. It was as if Trager's entire demeanor had changed in that split second, going from friendly to menacing as he snipped the shears a few times and made his way back over to the center of the room, gripping Miles' right hand as he positioned the shears over his index finger. _No, no, no, _Miles thought, sheer panic taking over as he realized what was about to happen, _Oh God, no. Don't do it, don't do it, DON'T DO IT!_

"To make you…_believe_."

And in that moment, all Miles could feel was an unbearable pulsing sensation as he felt the shears cut through every layer of his finger. From what he could feel, it was not going to be a clean cut, either, and he finally let out the scream that he'd been holding in for the last few hours. Tears of pain welled up in his eyes as he bit his lower lip, and he looked away so that he would not have to see the doctor's "handiwork". It was as if his whole hand was on fire, and soon, he felt a haze begin to take over, his vision blurring as he did everything he could to block out the pain.

"You paying attention?" Trager growled as he reached out and slapped Miles across the face, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"Don't pass out on me," the doctor admonished him as he moved on to his left hand now, "There's still a _lot _for you to absorb."

Miles screamed again as he felt the blades slice through his ring finger this time, that same wave of pain back as he looked away and tried not to focus on what was going on in front of him. _Why _was Trager cutting two of his fingers off like this? Was he planning on taking any more? What was all that talk about religion and faith supposed to mean?

None of that mattered, though, compared to the pain he was in right now, and he felt those same tears in his eyes as he just prayed that this would all be over soon. All he could see in front of him was his family, reliving happier times with his parents and brothers before he moved to Englewood, and before he fell out of touch with all of them. The last family vacation they had taken together was after Miles' high school graduation, when they'd decided to take a whirlwind trip to Zurich, Switzerland, and how they'd-

"There," Trager spoke up, his voice cutting into Miles' thoughts as he stepped away from the chair, "Better now, right? Do you understand what we achieved here?" Before Miles could answer, he moved to stand next to the cart with all his tools on it, pushing it towards the hallway as he made his exit.

"We made the consumer into the means of production. This thing is going to sell itself!" He slammed the door shut behind him as he left, and as soon as he was gone, Miles cried out in pain again as he finally glanced down at his hands, doing a double take as he processed what had just happened to him for the first time.

His left ring finger and right index finger were actually gone! Part of him had been hoping that this was all just some horrible nightmare, and that he'd either wake up in his apartment or somehow be back with Tyler and Emily, but more waves of pain where his fingers had been amputated brought him back to reality. This had actually happened, and since he didn't know where Trager was taking the cart, there was no way he'd be able to get them back and put them on ice until he got to a hospital.

For now, all he could think about was getting the hell out of there, wincing as he clenched his fists again and attempted to break free from the straps, which were still cutting tightly into his skin.

_Fuck, _he thought to himself, _I have no idea how long it's going to take me to get out of here, but I have to. I can't risk still being here if he comes back. What if he ends up taking other body parts besides my fingers? I can't let that happen! _

And with that, he continued to try to find ways to break free, hoping that it would be a long time before Trager decided to bother with him again.

* * *

The wheels on the cart squeaked rather loudly as Trager continued to push it down the hallway, whistling happily as he ignored the various groans and cries of his patients. He didn't have _time _to perfect his bedside manner right that second, though; whatever pain they were feeling, they were simply going to have to deal with it until he was finished with his current work. He glanced down at the two fingers he had just obtained, and he just knew_ somebody_ on the black market would buy them for a high price. The fresher they were, the better, and he decided he was going to put them on ice until he could find a potential buyer.

That was all he _could _do after Murkoff had royally screwed him over not too long ago.

"Hey there, Jed," Trager cheerfully greeted another one of his "patients" that had his leg elevated and in a cast, "How's it going?"

"Fuck you," the man spat in response.

Trager clucked his tongue, shaking his head as he replied, "Now, is that any way to talk to the guy who's trying to save your leg? I'm doing my best to try to stop the gangrene, so you oughta be thanking me."

"_Stop it_?" Jed snapped as he tugged on his restraints, "You're the one that's making it worse by leaving me like this! You need to amputate it now before I lose the rest of my limb! And you call yourself a doctor!"

Trager sighed impatiently. Jed had always been one of his more difficult patients, and it took him all his self control not to drive his bone shears right into the bastard's chest. "I _told _you," he huffed, "I'm still new at this whole doctor thing. I'll work out the kinks one of these days. But you've just gotta be a little more patient. Just let me drop this cart off first and I'll be right back to check up on ya." _And maybe cut out that filthy tongue of yours, too, while I'm at it, _he added silently to himself as he turned away from the man currently cursing and screaming at him. He was disappointed at how so many people did not appreciate doctors these days, or the effort they put into making sure the general public was in good health, and he felt that applied to him as well. He deserved so much more than this! After all his years of working for Murkoff, he _earned _it!

"Jed's giving you problems again, isn't he?"

Trager, who didn't consider himself someone who was easy to scare, still jumped at the familiar voice that had addressed him, and he glanced up as he spotted a face he knew all too well. One he knew from all those golfing excursions and the martinis they relaxed with afterwards, all while discussing Murkoff business and enjoying their comfortable positions in the company.

And the same one who had done nothing to stop the doctors from forcing him into the same Engine that had changed Billy.

"Didn't expect to see _you _here, Jer," Trager said, "I thought you would have kicked the bucket when the shit hit the fan earlier!"

Jeremy Blaire shrugged as he stepped out of the shadows, and although he _was _starting to look like he'd been through the mill, his spirits were clearly still good. "You know I had to come by and see how your clinic was doing," he answered, "It's not every day people I know personally go on to do better things with their time. I had a feeling you would-"

"Look, is there something you wanted?" Trager interrupted him, holding up a hand, "I've still got a _lot _of patients to deal with and I don't exactly have time to chit chat."

If Jeremy was affronted by what the doctor had just said, he didn't show it as he shrugged again. "Well," he said, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for not stopping your treatment sooner. If I had known what they were up to, I would have never let them use you as a test subject."

Trager scoffed at that sorry excuse for an apology. Despite his altered state of mind, he still knew good and well that those were nothing but empty words, for Jeremy Blaire never felt remorse for anything and would happily throw his friends and colleagues under the bus for a promotion. He'd seen it happen more than a few times, though at first, he hadn't thought the same thing would happen to him.

Now, he knew better.

"Oh, no worries, Jer," Trager replied nonchalantly, waving his hand as he decided to play along for the time being, "What's that old saying? 'The past is in the past'? Yeah, that's it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a patient that I need to check for any more gangrene. Nasty infection he has, too. Wouldn't want something like that to spread."

"Well, at least let me make it up to you," Jeremy insisted, doing his best to force his voice to sound sincere, "I found two more patients roaming the hallways that I think you'd be very interested in examining. Remember how we were questioning why we never experiment on women? I think we're about to find out now. Sorenson?"

After the executive had snapped his fingers, Sorenson also appeared from the shadows, wheeling a gurney while Jeremy took over the other, continuing on their way until Trager finally laid eyes on Tyler and Emily Wilkins.


End file.
